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HOW TO SUCCEED IN SINGING

BY

A. BUZZI-PECCIA

A Practical Guide for Singers Desiring to Enter the Profession

PHILADELPHIA

THEO. PRESSER CO. 1712 CHESTNUT ST.

Copyright 1925 by Theo. Presser Oo.

British Copyright Secured

CONTENTS

PAET I PAGE

I What the Public Thinks About Yoeal Methods.. 7 II The Old Italian Method. 12

III Teaching the Italian Method to American Stu¬ dents . 19

IV The Difference of Conception in Starting to Study. Between the American and European Pupil ... 22

V Vocalization . 27 VI Books on Tone Production. 30

VII Voice—Voice—Voice! . 32 VIII The Modern Scientific Voice Makers. 35

IX Imitation and Assimilation. 37 X Artistic Emotion and Natural Emotion. 39

XI Artificial Expression . 41 XII How Artists Study. 42

XIII Repertoire . 43 XIV Light Opera or Musical Comedy Singers. 45 XV Operatic and Concert Singers. 47

XVI Concert Programs . 49 XVII Good Opportunities and Bad Singing. 54

XVIII Good Singing and Bad Opportunity. 57 XIX Good Luck . 59 XX The Evolution of the Pupil. 61

XXI Stage Life . 64 XXII Going Abroad . 70

XXIII The Amateur Music Lover. 78 XXIV The Accompanist for Students. 79 XXV Artistic Business . 81

XXVI About Telling the Truth to Students. 83 XXVII The Ear Drum of the Singer. 85

XXVIII Stars . 88 XXIX The Public Theatre Goers. 92 XXX The Scientific Method and the Egg. 98

XXXI What Establishes the Reputation of a Vocal Teacher . 102

XXXII The Scientific Singing of Great Artists. 107 XXXIII Love of Art—The Inside of an Artistic Study... Ill XXXIV Selecting a Voice Teacher in a Distant City. 114 XXXV The Gradual Development of a Pupil. 118

iii

IV CONTENTS

PART II

The Natural Laws of the Mechanism of the Human Voice

page

XXXVI The Mechanism of the Human Voice...... 123 XXXVII Vocal Organs and Their Activities. 126

XXXVIII The Larynx . 127 XXXIX Sound and Voice. 129

XL Breath . 129 XLI Diaphragm . 131

XLII Rhythmical Respiratory Gymnastics . 133 XLIII Exercises for Breathing and Holding the Breath 134 XLIV Expansion and Holding. 135

XLV About Mental Control of the Vocal Organs. 136 XLVI About Passages, Registers. 137

XLVII The Artistic Diction. 139 XLVIII Correct and Incorrect Placement of Vowels. 143

XLIX Exercises on Vowels. 148 L Articulation of Consonants. 150

LI Exercises for the Independent Articulation of Lips and Tongue. 150

LII Exercises to Facilitate the Rolling of the R. 152 LIII The Free Action of the Lips in the Labial Con¬

sonant M . 152 LTV Explanation of the Three Exercises. 155

To American Students

My dear Friends:

I come to you with this little book, stirring up good and bad things in vocal art: Methods, teach¬ ers, students, engagements, debuts, stage life and other features of the profession; in order to bring them under your observation.

I have taken for analysis and consideration those elements that form the basis of the vocal art, as an art, and all those elements that form the practical part of a lyric career, with some examples which have been gleaned from long and varied experience, and some truths which may prove helpful to those people who are planning to enter the world of the lyric art.

My best wishes, and good luck to all of you.

A. Buzzi-Peccia

I

WHAT THE PUBLIC THINKS ABOUT

VOCAL METHODS

That the Public, including the large army of vocal students, has not an exact idea of what a vocal method is and what a vocal teacher should be, is evident from the way everyone talks and argues on the subject. There are so many differ¬ ent and contradictory opinions that to decide which is the correct one is almost an impossibility.

There are people who assert and who believe that the art of singing is the simplest thing in the world. These expect a pupil to sing a song after having taken a few lessons. These same people, who would not expect a piano pupil to play a Chopin Ballade, a Beethoven Sonata, nor even a Sonatina by Mozart, or a Schumann com¬ position, without years of preparation. Nor would they consent to have their pianos tuned by a tuner who had spent two or three days learning how.

On the contrary, other people believe that the art of singing is the most complicated thing on earth, a labyrinth of rules which no teacher could explain correctly because in order to do so, he should have to be a great artist, a great musician,

7

8 HOW TO SUCCEED IN SINGING

a physician, a scientist, a throat specialist, an expert in all the anatomical contractions of the vocal organs, muscles and ligaments of the human body, and a polyglot!

There is only one point on which both ex¬ tremes agree, and that is, that “anyone is com¬ petent to judge.” That is why, in vocal matters, there are so many advisors. (And such advisors!)

The gamut of their opinions ranges from the simplest ingenuity of a child to the incredible absurdities of the quack.

But how can the public have a clear idea re¬ garding methods and teachers when there are statements, in the memoirs of certain celebrities, that give the impression that the vocal teacher is almost a secondary matter?

Some admit having studied with a teacher for a period, but claim that they knew how to sing before going to him. The teacher merely gave a little advice, and there the matter ended. A cer¬ tain Prima Donna said she never studied. She just got up one fine morning and sang! Another gave recitals when six years of age; at twelve she brushed up a couple of scales; and at fifteen, appeared on the stage! When asked how she did it, she said, “It’s very simple—merely listen¬ ing and watching good artists—nothing else.” This is what we might call the Listening Method. With this method, every usher at the Metropoli¬ tan Opera House should be a great artist!

HOW TO SUCCEED IN SINGING 9

But what about the great artists of the Golden

Age of Song? Were they such stupid people that

they needed so many years of study? Of course

at that time the repertoire required an able vocal¬

ist; but to be an able vocalist nowadays would

do no very great harm to the execution of modern

operas, even though they are not of the coloratura

style.

Speaking of coloraturas, have you ever noticed

that the majority of coloratura sopranos state

that they learned from the birds? How charming!

It is really naive; but how poetically it reads!

A celebrated coloratura soprano tells, for in¬

stance, that she learned to sing while walking

through the woods. In a short time she was able

to sing, merely from listening to the birds! This

is another method—the Bird Vocal Method! I thought that only poets gave themselves up

to listening to the birds; but I find there are some

vocal teachers who from time to time advocate

this natural and inexpensive method.

I must confess I have wandered through many

woods and have heard birds whistling beautifully;

but I have never heard a bird sing an operatic aria! Perhaps I wasn’t in the right mood. But

taking them at their word, I will say that some¬

times coloratura sopranos succeed in imitating

birds surprisingly well, when they deliver to the

public a high D which is a perfect whistle and a

picchettato which is a perfect imitation of the


cackling of a lien when she announces the laying of an egg.

Yet, the public seems much pleased with this style of imitation. The higher the whistle, the greater the applause. Musical art has made great progress in the past few years. The public, how¬ ever, does not show much improvement in its taste, with regard to voices. It prefers a shrill high tone from a soprano to the velvety tone of a contralto. A bombastic high B from a tenor at the end of a song always stirs the audience.

Dogs are more sensitive in this respect. When they hear a high screaming tone, they react by starting to howl and moan. The public, on the other hand, can only think that he who is able to reach a high note is a wonder l

Because of this fact we have a mania among vocal students to reach high tones. It is really an obsession with nearly every student. When a pupil can scream a high C, he or she is happy, happy as a bird! Very often the pupil loses all the middle register by brutalizing the voice in this way. She cannot sing a sustained tone any more, but she is not worried as long as she can reach the canary C, the craze of the dear public.

Bassos, baritones and some tenori-robusti pre¬ fer to show the power of their voices by imitating other species of animals! By the way in which they sometimes roar their songs, it would seem that they had learned the art of bel ca/nto, cross-


ing some African desert or visiting a zoological garden.

With all these imitations of nature to be had for the asking, in the turmoil of so many different natural and unnatural exhibitions of the art of singing, small wonder that the public has become confused about teachers and methods!

II

THE OLD ITALIAN METHOD

The fame of the old Italian method has come through the centuries in spite of the many new discoveries, theories, odd opinions and vocal devices which have been preached by the apostles of the modern vocal art, all over the world, and especially in the United States.

The splendid name of the old Italian school made its way without fighting. It came among the war of differing opinions like a white dove of peace. Its greatness lies in the simplicity of its means and in the naturalness of its concepts. Its prestige endures because of the great results obtained, because of the directness with which the right end is reached and because of the sound¬ ness of its technical and artistic foundation.

Its importance rests on its fine gradation of progressive study, that leads to the full knowl¬ edge and control of vocal emission, expression, flexibility and all the effects which the voice is called upon to perform. Thus the vocal, mental and latent artistic capabilities of the singer are unfolded and developed.

The old Italian method did not do a lot of boasting about anatomical knowledge, nor scien-

12


tific descriptions of muscular contractions of the

vocal organs—for the simple reason that such

knowledge is of no help to the pupil. It would

only serve to confuse him and perhaps distract

his artistic conception by conceiving the anatomi¬

cal action of the vocal organs. Their action is

only consequence and not direct cause. The direct cause is the mind which conceives

the tone. The vocal organs adjust themselves to

perform the tone preconceived by the mind. The

ear discovers whether the tone produced corre¬

sponds to the one preimagined by the mind; and

that is all. We sing with the same set of vocal

organs with which we speak. Speaking is normal,

while singing is abnormal.

Everyone knows that the vocal organs are not

voluntary muscles which can be trained sepa¬

rately. They only get into action by singing;

so it is very easy to understand that opening the

mouth, swelling or squeezing the diaphragm,

raising or lowering the tongue and breathing in

or exhaling the breath, without singing, would

be like going through the motions of swimming

out of water.

The simplicity of the old Italian method did not

mean, however, ignorance or pedantry, as is so

readily seen by the fact that the best of our

modern singers cannot sing the scores of operas

that a commonplace singer of other days could

perform very easily. Today, when an old opera


is performed, the public is surprised if a tenor

or soprano is able to sing scales or to sing with a

pure, clear tone and charming melody. The pub¬

lic thinks that such an artist is a marvel; and yet

the singer has merely studied by the simple old

method.

Many students, in fact nearly all, ask to be

taught by the old Italian method. To go back to

the old Italian method one must go back to the

old school of vocal teachers, who devoted their

whole lives and souls to the art of teaching.

Nowadays who is not a vocal teacher? They

spring up faster than mushrooms on a rainy

day. Some are good, honest, experienced teach¬

ers who can give valuable advice; but unfortu¬

nately the greater number are self-appointed.

They became vocal masters either for the reason

that they could do nothing else, that they did not

make enough money in their own professions, or

for some unknown reason which has nothing to

do with the beautiful art of singing.

Really, it does not require a great deal to be¬

come a voice teacher of such calibre. A nice

studio, one piano, a permanent encouraging smile,

an accompanist, some good advertising, some

good pupil from another teacher, friends who

help, some student who believes, and there you

have a vocal teacher.

From time to time we read in the papers of people who wish to have these vocal teachers


examined. It would be a very good thing if it

were possible; but at the present time, with the

chaos of different opinions, personal views of

singers, musicians, doctors, and so on, each claim¬

ing the superiority of his own method such an

examination would be an impossibility. The

fakes have more nerve than the real teachers; and

these fakes are great fighters. So most likely the

poor committee would find itself in such a raging

sea of discussion and dispute that it would con¬

sider itself fortunate to come out alive.

In the olden days vocal teachers were not so

numerous and were considered a highly respect¬

able class of artists, honored by Kings, Emperors

and the highest personalities. Nowadays, things

have changed considerably.

The modern pupil, too, is different from the old

one. He has not the same enthusiasm, the same

love for real study. He has the ambition to suc¬

ceed, but not the perseverance to pursue the road

to success. Moreover he lives in an entirely dif¬

ferent social atmosphere. The student of other

days belonged to a class apart, removed from

social life. Today the pupil’s time is divided

amongst his studies, friendships, good times and

all the distractions of social functions. He does

not have the advantage of good art discussions

(to talk seriously at parties is taboo) and the

subject of art and artists becomes mere patter.

The pupil who is told he must give up his round


of gaieties feels that it is too great a sacrifice.

The way is long, the enthusiasm short and per¬

severance dwindles little by little.

Then, too, there are all those who change teach¬

ers every six weeks (changing teachers seems to

be a specialty of vocal students) and those people

who go from one studio to another singing for

teachers just for pastime or merely out of

curiosity. They have not the least idea of taking

lessons; but they like to talk to different vocal

teachers. They go from one teacher to another,

collecting opinions, rules, advice and so on. Then

they go home and study by themselves, or per¬

haps with an accompanist. They think they are

very clever in doing this, hut they are not!

Then, too, there is the lamentable student who

can never find a satisfactory teacher for his won¬

derful talent.

Vocal students are never quite sure of what

they are doing. They are always inquiring, ask¬

ing everyone’s opinion; they are nearly always in

the air.

But the self-called wonderful pupil (who never

succeeds) is the worst of all. He belongs to a

class of people, half-students, half-singers, who

would like to sing but never find a vocal master

to their liking. What this class wants is a teacher

who will tell them what they think they are and

not what they really are! They ask for the

truth; but they hate to listen to it. They prefer


being deceived. Their vanity is stronger than

their reason. It is this class of people that pro¬

duces the unscrupulous teachers and fakes. The

bigger the bluff, the more the pupils believe in it.

One may say that a bluffer does not last very

long. That is true; but if it were not for this

class of pupil, he ivould not even exist! Many students complain that they cannot study

because of the lack of artistic atmosphere in this

country. While there are many American stu¬

dents who go abroad to find the artistic atmos¬

phere in some boarding house or “au clair de la

lune,” there are some eminent artists who come

from abroad to sing and teach in the American

artistic atmosphere. This tends to prove that

when there is a truly artistic soul and a well-

balanced mind, one can find the artistic atmos¬

phere in any part of the world.

But one must confess that the pupil of today

studies under some disadvantages. The public

expects too much from a young singer. Relatives

want him to succeed quickly; so the pupil feels

that he must study in a hurry. This, of course,

cannot be done. The old teacher says that, in the

art of singing, “He who wants to succeed quickly ■—has to go slowly”; and it is true.

The development of a voice is very slow, be¬

cause of the many things that have to do with it

and are bound up in it. The voice itself, the

mental state, the spiritual condition, the health


of the pupil, subconscious tendencies and reac¬

tions: all these are reflected in the voice of the

pupil and affect favorably or unfavorably his

vocal progress.

The old vocal teacher and student used to work

with a calm spirit of research and improvement.

The student knew that he would have to stay with

his teacher for at least four or five years before

he could be considered ready. The vocal teacher

having a class of pupils for five years was not

in a hurry to look for other pupils. He was work¬

ing patiently, easily, with no need of advertise¬

ment, no worry and no contention. All colleagues

were good friends; they respected each other.

The debut of one of the pupils was a cheerful

event, not a feast of criticism. Every teacher

had his own pupils, and there was no need of

pupil endorsements, that bone of contention of

modern teachers. At the present time the public

quarrels, when teachers claim each other’s suc¬

cessful pupils, is indeed a sad spectacle.

Lamentable, too, is the pandemonium of thou¬

sands of artists and students coming, going, toss¬

ing each other about, always trying to come out

first. The more they hurry, the less they succeed,

because one of the worst enemies of the vocal student is the unrest of the mind.

Thus, with the modern student, it is obvious

that the old peaceful regular study cannot be

realized.

TEACHING THE ITALIAN METHOD TO AMERICAN STUDENTS

It would be wrong to say that the Italian method can be taught to American pupils in the same way in which it is taught to an Italian stu¬ dent, not because of the difference in musical aptitude or capability, but on account of the vast difference in the languages they speak.

The Italian language is spoken by every Italian, in the nasal cavity, without the least preoccupa¬ tion or thought of direction and without any effort to support the voice in that place. Each one of the five vowels—A, E, I, 0, U—has the resonance in the nasal cavity and is emitted with a very slight modification of shape in passing from one to the other. Consequently, the consonants that are to be connected with the vowels reach the same place. The articulation of the consonants is performed by the lips and tongue in such a way that the sound is helped to go in front, leaving the lower part of the mouth (the jaw) entirely free and relaxed, which is one of the greatest advantages a singer can have. It gives freedom of tone production, expression, and makes the diction more easy and effective. In this way the

19


singer gets the maximum effect with the minimum

effort. The American student has difficulty in carrying

the voice to the front, on account of his nasal or guttural way of speaking, had habits in articula¬ tion of consonants and mumbling of vowels.

Vowels in English are not in the mask. They are not clean, pure, steady vowels, but mixed vowels. The passage from one vowel to another requires much more motion of chin and lips than the Italian vowels. The voice always has the tendency to fall back; and to keep it in front requires more intensity of breath support and muscular tension.

The stiff jaw is one of the principal troubles among American pupils, a trouble which causes many other inconveniences in singing. Stiffening the jaw prevents freedom of breath control (the gradual action of the breath, increasing, relaxing and shading the tone). In some cases the breath gets away and is exhausted after a few tones, and then the voice must depend upon muscular effort for support. Again, in the effort of holding a tone, the stiff jaw interferes with the action of the breath in such a way that the singer suffers from diaphragmatic contraction (sometimes very painfully), having a feeling of emptiness while he still has plenty of breath.

From all this it is easy to understand that to correct these faults and to put the American on


the same footing as the Italian pupil, one must

start in a different way to reach the point. To

begin, for instance, with an open Italian A, would

be a great mistake and would not give good re¬

sults. The Italian A is different from the Eng¬

lish A, and so is the O, which the English form

by pulling out the lips, while the Italian only

rounds his mouth. The English have not the dark

Italian E, in their language; they have an open

E, which is very far back. E is either guttural

or too nasal. It gives a nasal tone that some

pupils confound with the voice in the nasal cav¬

ity; but the two are entirely different things.

However, these troubles, which seem so numerous,

can be corrected easily by intelligent, systematic,

technical and artistic training.

IV

THE DIFFERENCE OF CONCEPTION IN STARTING TO STUDY BETWEEN THE

AMERICAN AND EUROPEAN PUPIL

The difference in the attitude of the pupil in the school makes a great difference in teaching and learning. While apparently there is no dif¬ ference in the attitude towards the school and teacher, between the American and European pupil, in reality there is a substantially great one, the points of view being almost diametrically opposite.

When a European pupil starts to study he goes before the teacher and sings. No matter how badly or with how many faults in his production, he sings, according to his own impulse, his nat¬ ural conception. He sings freely, without any suggested preconception. His voice comes out, showing all its good and bad points, the pupil’s right or wrong conception. The teacher can at once see his way clearly and so have a much better and decisive judgment about everything concerning the pupil’s capabilities. He can then formulate his plans for the pupil’s individual in¬ struction, the teaching becomes simpler, correct¬ ing the pupil gradually until he reaches the point

22


of artistic training. Correcting the pupil while he sings with his own natural initiative makes the task of the teacher much easier, because the artistic personality of the pupil can he detected and developed without hesitation and the results are quicker and more satisfactory. This can be easily understood.

In America, on the contrary, when the pupil begins his studies, he stands before the teacher and asks what he should do. He wants the technical explanation of the Art of Singing, the rules of its foundation, instead of singing accord¬ ing to his own impulse. The vocal teacher, who is considered a Well of Vocal Science, has to give all the general rules, anatomical explanations, description of the action of the vocal organs, and so forth, besides practical examples of how to stand, to open the mouth, to lower the tongue, to expand the diaphragm, to relax the jaw, and other details.

When the pupil is well filled up with all these technical and scientific explanations, he starts to sing. However, he no longer sings with any de¬ gree of freedom or his own natural impulse. He sings under an artificial conception and some eventual suggestion from the teacher. His per¬ sonality and the quality of voice almost disappear, suffocated, as it were, by this multitude of given rules to remember and to put into action while singing. The teacher has a very difficult task


finding out whether the faults are due to the voice or to a misunderstanding of some given rule.

The voice, under these conditions of the mental state, when emitted is very difficult to train, and its real quality much more so to discover. This is one of the principal reasons pupils change teachers and the manner of singing so often; also why the quality undergoes so many changes. After several changes of method, they are com¬ pletely at sea and do not know which is the true quality of their voices.

Singing under continuous suggestion, the stu¬ dent never develops the ability to use his own mind. He sings well when at the studio and gets lost when left alone. Another strange but quite frequent result of not singing freely and always striving to sing by suggested rules is that the pupil, who before studying sang some little songs or melodies with a charming tone quality, cannot find the same quality when he tries to sing accord¬ ing to technical rules.

One important point, that should be understood clearly, is that the school is the place where the student gets the IDEA which he must work out alone—at home. The improvement must come from his oum mind! It would seem that everyone does study in that way, but in reality it is far from so.

The majority of pupils believe that, when they have a competent teacher, all they have to do is


to go to the studio and study there. The teacher is the one who must do all the thinking, find out all the faults and the manner of correcting them. They do not seem to understand that the teacher is the guide who gives them the points, but that the pupil is the one who must think them out and develop them for himself. There is no one else who can do this for him. The same thing applies to every line of endeavor. If the teacher could do everything, it would be ideally easy work for the ambitious pupil. Unfortunately, however, the pupil must be a very valuable co-operator with the teacher and use his own mind, if he wishes to succeed. Otherwise, there is no chance for him.

Of course I refer to the average pupil. If I should attempt to go into detail regarding the different kinds of pupils, their various opinions and manners of studying, it would fill many vol¬ umes. Even then one would not have a complete collection.

There is the pupil who thinks he has had a bad lesson when a conscientious teacher corrects him over and over again, on some point which he can¬ not understand. This type of pupil is usually happy when he finds a teacher who does not pay any attention to his faults but praises everything he does. Then there is the student who at every lesson has a new idea—picked up from some friend or book. Next is the one who thinks he knows all there is to know and who bitterly re-


sents correction. Others want to accomplish everything, to correct faults they have had for years, in ten or twelve lessons. Others study tone production at the studio, grand opera at home, cabaret songs for their friends, and give a few lessons and a lot of advice to other students, as a side issue. Then there are those who go to the studio as they go to church, once a week, then close the book when they come out, for another week. Others, but I am not writing a volume on this one subject—so “au revoir.”

V

VOCALIZATION

Technical, artistic vocalization means a study which combines the two elements, technique and artistry.

A great number of pupils consider the founda¬ tion of the art of singing only from the technical point of view. Others go through their daily exercises with the sentiment of accomplishing a duty, because they have to and not because they like to do it. They consider the time spent in doing exercises, almost wasted. For them, the real study begins from the day they start to sing a song. But alas! the student who thinks exer¬ cises unnecessary trouble is very much to be pitied, for he will study all his life without accomplishing anything.

No less to be pitied is the one who believes only in technical tone production. He makes a great mistake, because the technical conception of the tone production paralyzes the artistic conception

of it and deprives the voice of its natural feeling by substituting an artificial one. In a word, we lose the individuality of the voice. The pupil who

* performs exercises without an artistic feeling, is 27


one wlio has not the true love for the study of beautifying the voice.

Some people say, “How can people put any artistic feeling into scales, arpeggios, octaves, trills, gruppetti, sustained tones, etc.?” They do not realize that every one of these exercises has its special character responding to a special pur¬ pose and requires a special feeling in vocal execu¬ tion. All these exercises are nothing hut the very things one needs in order to sing songs. They are the technical, artistic necessities of the singer.

The pupil who believes only in technical re¬ search for tone production will study all his life without understanding why his voice has no charm, no color and sounds monotonous. He does not understand that his voice is lacking the principal factors of quality and expression, the light of an artistic conception. His face has no expression; he has only a studied pose which does not appeal, only hinders, and even destroys personal attraction.

Every pupil should he in love with his vocali¬ zation! Instead of going through his daily exer¬ cises like a machine, without any artistic feeling, he should put his soul and mind to it.

To train the pupil in all the effects of vocaliza¬ tion was the way the old masters used to teach. They did not let the pupil have a song until he was ready for it.


Nowadays, there are scores of students who have studied for years and are not able to sing a single scale correctly; but they know by memory songs and operas, which they sing; that is, which they pretend to sing. They go around singing the same arias for years. They grow old, the scores grow old with them, they fall to pieces with all their dog-ear marks, cadenzas and dirt, while the pupils remain always at the same stage of their careers, eternal beginners!

VI

BOOKS ON TONE PRODUCTION

There are many and sometimes very good books written on the Art of Singing and on Tone Pro¬ duction. They are valuable for some things and should be read by teachers. I should not advise a young student to read them, however, because he cannot understand them. Neither do I advise teachers to use them as texts nor as unvarying examples of correct procedure. There can be no fixed rules, because there are no two pupils who can be taught exactly alike, in the whole world. The book can give a rule, but cannot give the thousand details on adapting the same rule to different pupils, each possessing different vocal capabilities, mental conceptions and physical strength.

The thousand shadings of different ways to apply a rule make the great difficulty in teach¬ ing. It is in the suitableness and efficaciousness of these adaptations that the competence and cleverness of a vocal teacher are shown. The teacher must find the way to fit the rule to the pupil’s individuality. It is the shoe that must

30


fit the foot and not the foot that must fit the shoe. Sometimes a little fault compels the teacher to change his way of training a pupil. As it often happens in a game of chess—a little move changes the whole programme of a play.

VII

VOICE—VOICE—VOICE!

When “Papa” Rossini launched his great motto, “He who wants to he a singer must pos¬ sess three things; Voice—Voice—Voice!” every¬ one was astonished by the profound sentence, the great truth—which included in one word all the art of singing.

I believe that the great master, who possessed a tremendous sense of humor, meant it ironically, for that part of the public which cares only for Voice, that is, for the Instrument itself and not for the artistic playing on it. It must be so, otherwise the great master would have only ex¬ plained a material necessity, which is common to all kinds of art.

No one would be amazed or surprised to hear that a dancer must possess Legs, Legs, Legs (Pardon, only two are necessary, so I take one back.); that a pianist needs a Piano to play on and a cook needs a chicken if he wishes to prepare a chicken a la grille. The impression that the modulation of the voice is a phenomenal thing apart from the skill or the artistic culture of the singer, makes him think that Voice is Everything! This impression is still general, after centuries.

32


In fact, everyone who has the ambition of becom¬

ing a singer always asks if his voice is good

enough to be cultivated (which is very reason¬

able) ; but he never inquires about all the other

musical talents he should possess, to become a

successful singer. He never stops to think that

the Voice is the Instrument which transmits the artistic soul of the singer, his technical skill, his

magnetic personal power. When the Voice has

nothing to transmit except the material resonance,

the voice becomes a monotonous thing even

though of natural good quality.

A Stradivarius played by a bad violinist will

lose all its charm of tone; while a poor violin

played by a great artist, will sound beautiful in

his hands. The poor violin may be compared to

a passably good voice when illumined by the soul-

poetry of a real artist.

“Artists Born” are those who have the artistic soul which makes the voice an instrument of emotion, the real love, the poetry of the art, the

real vocation. Then comes the voice, the exponent of all these artistic qualities.

The common belief that every good voice can

make a fine artist brings the result that the good

voices are many, the fine artists few. Many stu¬

dents have good voices, sometimes unusually

good ones. They go on splendidly as long as they

are trained for vocalization, but often fall flat

when asked to express dramatic sentiment or


when artistic diction is demanded, or a deep

interpretation of a poem. Then the voice of good

material stops and is unable to cross the bridge

of real art. It becomes stagnant, only suitable

for a certain type of song demanding sonority

and not artistic refinement.

One may say that there is still a great part of

the public that cares only for voice; better say,

for noise! But the noisy singer doesn’t last very

long. He usually comes up quickly, but he dis¬

appears just as quickly.

The belief that the voice is the only factor in

singing has brought, as a natural consequence,

the idea that a vocal teacher need not be a musi¬

cian. Some go so far, on this subject, as to say

that one can learn by the description of the mo¬

tion of the vocal organs (according to which

theory any throat specialist or surgeon can be a

vocal master). They claim that the science has

to take the place of the old empirisme; but all in

all it seems (if one looks at the results) that the

scientific singing is not any better than the old

empirisme (which after all gave to the world

many great artists and many great vocalists—

who are lost to this generation).

VIII

THE MODERN SCIENTIFIC VOICE

MAKERS

The scientific teaching comes from the very

uncertain standing of the vocal teacher as an

artistic or technical authority. It is with great

regret (in regard to many professionals who de¬

serve all respect and credit for their artistic

work) that one must admit that in reality a vocal

teacher has no definite professional standing—

outside the fact that he is teaching vocal students.

His professional standing before the public is

not clear. The vocal teacher is a self-appointed

master. So it has been through the ages and so

it is nowadays, in spite of all the supposed prog¬

ress and all the discussions of vocal training. The

obscurity of the origin of a great part of the

vocal teachers makes the public uncertain about

their authenticity.

When Rossini said “Voice—Voice—Voice,” he

certainly meant to say natural voice, not the

artificial noises that are often made. Nowadays

a natural voice seems to be almost a secondary

consideration, because the modern vocal scientists

claim that they are able to give to everyone not

only voice, voice, voice, but also the kind of voice 35


the student wishes to have—a Caruso, a Melba, a Patti voice! All the student has to do is to

choose the kind he desires!

The Scientific Methods used by all these voice

givers are many and of a great variety.

By all these beautiful methods one would be¬

lieve that good voices could be produced to such

a prolific extent as to shame the rabbits. As a

matter of fact one can hear Voice—Voice—Voice

all around; but I do not believe that “Papa”

Rossini would stick to his motto if he were living

in the present vocal era.

IX

IMITATION AND ASSIMILATION

A large majority of vocal students have the

ingenuity to imitate the vocal emission, special

effects and even the motion of lips and body, of

some great artist.

Imitation is a very poor form of art. It means

lack of artistic initiative and personality. They

do not understand that the vocal artistic effects

are personal specialties of each particular singer

and cannot be imitated.

There are many singers who have lost their

own personality by imitating other singers’ spe¬

cialties in vocal emission or in interpretation of

songs. The singer should understand that the mechanical imitation is of no use and that teach¬

ers should not impose their own vocal emission

on their pupils.

As a matter of fact, the vocal masters who

produced the greatest celebrities were not sing¬

ers themselves. Beginning with Muzio, Pae-

chierotti, Porpora, down to Leoni, San Giovanni

and the celebrated Lampertis (father and son),

we find that not one of these ever sang; yet they

gave to the world its greatest singers! Moreover

were the exact imitation of vocal emission desir- 37


able, it would not prove practicable. What kind

of an example could a tenor, even with a Caruso

voice, give to a coloratura soprano, a basso to a

tenor and vice versa!

Teachers who have not been gifted with a

golden voice by God—or the throat of a canary—

are saying a good deal, when they claim that the

only way for a pupil to learn is by imitating

their way of singing. The only way to get some

advantage from listening to or studying with

great artists, is to assimilate, if possible, their

artistic conception as expressed by their vocal

effects, and to realize how they have adapted

these effects to their own individual talent and

capacity, by an artistic evolution. But to do this

takes a clever mind. All great artists assimilate

each other’s best points; and yet no two sing

alike. If they imitated these mechanically, in¬

stead of assimilating them individually, they

would all sing alike, thereby losing their greatest

charm, their own personality.

X

ARTISTIC EMOTION AND NATURAL

EMOTION

Not many people realize tlie psychological dif¬

ference between natural emotion and artistic

emotion, nor which of the two an artist should

feel in singing and acting.

The natural emotion is the direct impression

of a real fact. The artistic emotion is a sugges¬

tive impression of an imagined fact. The artistic

emotion is the essence of sentiment. An artist

is an auto-suggested person who communicates

his emotions to others. The essence of sentiment

is the mysterious language of nature.

A painter who only copies waves and trees,

without the expression of their sentiment, is not

an artist; he is merely a material reproducer of

trees and waves, hut not of the sentiment of na¬

ture itself. A singer who only emits tones cor¬

rectly is a vocalist, perhaps a good singer, but

not an artist. The real artist gives that intan¬

gible but supreme emotion by suggesting and pro¬

jecting the imagined experience.

Everything on the stage is suggested and sug¬

gestive. The public would not stand for reality.

That is why you see refined ladies enjoying the

39


sight of Otello suffocating poor Desdemona,

Cavarodossi shot down before their very eyes

and Mimi dying of consumption. Religious people

even applaud the Devil when he sings a good

song. The public would not stand for many of

the love duos, were they not idealized. They do

not see in Faust and Marguerite a couple of

sweethearts but only the essence of the sentiment

of eternal love and innocence. The presence of

the evoked sentiment dissipates the realism and

preserves for the audience the emotion and idea

of which the action is but the symbol. Thus it is

most important for the actor or singer to feel all

passion artistically and not realistically. If a

singer should really get angry or exhausted, he

could not sing, for the reason that every little

emotion affects the voice and its control.

Laughter, anger, passion, joy, sorrow and all the

lesser emotions of regret, chagrin, and so on

affect the voice in countless ways and in varying

degrees. The artist must be under perfect con¬

trol both physically and mentally. He has to be

very alert in keeping track of what he is doing

and what is to come. He must prepare for hard

passages that are coming. The artistic emotion

however does not affect the voice; on the contrary,

it helps it, gives it character, expression and

power.

XI

ARTIFICIAL EXPRESSION

People who are lacking in artistic initiative and

suggestive imagination often try to express sen¬

timent by artificial means such as mechanical ges¬

tures, calculated pauses and superimposed facial

expression. These people can arrive at a certain

point of histrionism but never can give any emo¬

tion to the public. Technique is a means to

accomplish dramatic effects; but it must be an

artistic technique, not a theoretical one (which

conceals art).

The artist must sing and act with such ease as

to make the audience believe it to be spontaneous

and perfectly natural. There is nothing more

painful than an artist who shows technical effort

in his work. Between a perfect technique and an

artist with some technical faults, but at the same

time a natural expression of emotion, the public

will always prefer the latter, because he gives

something to the audience. He gives a part of

himself. The other gives only an illustration of

some good theories; and the public does not care

much for theory. 41

XII

HOW ARTISTS STUDY

I wish that pupils might hear how artists study

their roles, going over them phrase by phrase,

word by word, hundreds of times, until they per¬

fect them. How they take every possible chance,

calculating every little dramatic or vocal effect,

in breathing, resting, accent, preparation of tone,

facial expression, pose of the body, and many

other details. How they render the work in the

most artistic way with regard to the style of the

music, the meaning of the words, the impersona¬

tion of the characters and at the same time adapt

the phrasing and musical effects to their own

voices.

How different with the great average of pupils

who learn the tunes and the words, brush up a bit

to be sure of them, and think then that they are

through with it. Completely satisfied, they look

for some other song or turn to another opera

score.

%

42

XIII

REPERTOIRE

When the pupil is ready for the study of reper¬

toire the best way to start is to begin with the

classics of all schools, Italian, German, English,

French. The study of the classics is the most

suitable for all vocal effects, diction and inter¬

pretation, on account of the purity of the melo¬

dies, clearness of style, and the beautiful setting

of words to music. The classic music is the happy

combination of vocalization, diction and dramatic

effects. It is the way to the more advanced and

modern school.

If a pupil needs an operatic repertoire, he

should begin with operas of the old school. The

composer of that time used to write for the

singer. Now, with the evolution of the lyric

drama, the conception of the composer has

changed a great deal. He writes with the con¬

ception of a complex effect—orchestral, scenic and

vocal combined—giving an unique result.

While the singer is the principal figure on the

stage, he is no longer the principal factor vocally;

he is but one part of a complex whole. We notice

the same evolution in chamber music. In certain

songs the accompaniment is the principal part, 43


while the singer merely sings intervals in har¬ monic relation to the accompaniment, but no melodious lines. It is a kind of melopea, a reci¬ tative which serves more as an explanation of the descriptive motion of the accompaniment than as the rendering of the lyrical idea by a character¬ istic melody.

These songs of modern composition require the refined art of a finished singer to bring out their effects. That is why they are not advisable for beginners as a first step. It is even more harmful to the voice to attempt to sing modern operas when a pupil is not ready for them.

It is a pity that so often one hears pupils, who can hardly sing a simple song, trying to sing big operatic arias. They impose upon their friends, not only the crucial pain of listening but also the ordeal of having to congratulate them upon their fine rendering and beautiful voices. These poor pupils live in the delusion of being ready for a debut and cannot understand why they do not get engagements.

XIV

LIGHT OPERA OR MUSICAL COMEDY

SINGERS

The general idea students have about singing

in musical comedy is that one who has not enough

voice or vocal culture for singing in grand opera

or concert is more than good enough for musical comedy.

One hears pupils say, “If I don’t succeed in

grand opera I will go into musical comedy.”

They think that is so easy, that being a light opera

singer is so simple, that it requires very little

talent or study.

It does not require the same histrionic abilities

necessary for grand opera, but some others not

less important and sometimes hard to find in one

person. The light opera artist must possess three

marked talents—if not exceptional ones, at least

good; as a singer; as a comedian; as a dancer.

It is easier to be sad than brilliant on the stage.

It is not so very easy to pass smoothly and beau¬

tifully from the speaking voice to the singing

voice, back and forth throughout the piece and to

dance while doing so.

How many prima donnas can dance in certain

operas? Very few. And when they dance, how 45


they do it! Besides, the light opera singer must

always be of prepossessing appearance, with a

beautiful figure and other attractions. As a rule

we do not see in light opera a respectable lady of

forty years playing the part of a Butterfly of

sweet sixteen, or a three hundred pound Mimi dying of consumption.

As for the work, the light opera singer must

sing once every day and sometimes twice. She

does not sing a part like Isolde or Tosca; but she

gets tired just the same when going through all

her talking, singing and dancing.

XV

OPERATIC AND CONCERT SINGERS

The operatic singer has three great factors to

help him. The costume helps to suggest the char¬

acter and to impress that suggestion on the audi¬

ence. The scenery, with its atmosphere, helps to

imbue the artist with the spirit of his character

and suggests his reactions to his environment.

The orchestra with its variety of tonal color

creates, supports and sustains the mood through¬

out the piece and is therefore of great help to

the singer.

The operatic singer has all these advantages

over the concert singer; but he must possess some

qualities other than the concert artist; for in¬

stance, a special histrionic talent. There are

those who are great artists on the operatic stage

and only mediocre singers on the concert stage

where there is no background of orchestra or set¬

ting to support them. The concert singer does

not conceal his identity beneath a cloak of some

romantic period. He is himself. His concern is

the beautiful rendition of different songs, each a

complete expressive unit in itself, the perfect

interpretation of the poetry, the subtleties of

musical shadings and phrasings. In opera we

47


have the broad play of expression, in concert a

finer and more delicate concentration.

Opera is the big picture of human sentiment;

concert is the miniature. It goes without saying

that an operatic student must be trained differ¬

ently than the aspirant for the concert stage.

Carrying power and endurance are absolute es¬ sentials of the voice for operatic use. Declama¬

tory emphasis which would be out of place in a

song recital is necessary in all operatic perform¬

ances, even in operas which are not very dramatic.

The singer must possess great physical endurance and vitality, in order to withstand the wear and tear of excitement of operas like “Carmen,” “Samson et Delila,” “Aida,” and “Tristan and Isolde” A concert singer can give a recital of

twenty songs and gratify the public with several

encores, without feeling one-third the physical

exhaustion of a singer who has given an operatic

performance.

The voice of an opera singer must develop in

its full range, for he needs it. The operatic

scores demand all his vocal resources, to the full¬

est extent of the singer’s powers. Sometimes,

too, the composer overtaxes the voice on its ex¬

treme upper tones or on the extreme lower ones.

A concert singer can easily transpose songs suit¬

ing him, to the limitations of his voice. The opera singer must be born with histrionic talent. The concert singer can be artistically made.

XVI

CONCERT PROGRAMS

To make a programme is not an easy matter,

especially in a country where concerts are so

numerous and valuable new songs, which please

the public, comparatively scarce. That is why

the singer reverts to the unescapable traditional

arrangements of songs, grouped systematically

according to periods and composers. It reminds

one of a traditional, formal dinner, where one

always finds the classic hors d’ouvre, the French

soup, the German roast, the Russian salad, the

English pudding and Italian wine. A Tosti song

in a formal recital would be like a dish of spag¬

hetti at a formal dinner; an operatic aria, a

capon a la hourgeoise. The public would like it

better; but the musical “cordon bleu” would be

horrified. The coloratura arias are tolerated,

they represent the bonbons and pastilles de

menthe, while folk songs represent fresh vege¬

tables.

Folk songs are always welcome in concert—folk

songs of all nations, arranged by some musician,

who is clever enough to solve the problem of being

a successful composer without composing. The

public likes folk songs, even in languages they

49


do not understand; because these songs so often

have characteristic rhythm and melody which

cannot be found in other songs.

Concert singers are very much afraid to try

new songs, even though the composition be good,

if the composer is not well known. They con¬

sider it a great risk and usually prefer an in¬

significant song written by an auteur a la mode. At least they count on making a good showing

on the programme. But a good musician should

not be confounded with the vast numbers of poor

composers who are more prolific than rabbits.

The overwhelming production of poor composi¬

tions is mostly due to the fact that the average

person is fond of songs with cheap sentiment.

That is why there are so many heartbroken, soul-

weary, faded roses, days-gone-by effusions, and

that host of songs on “You” which form the spe¬

cial delight of so many amateurs and the vaude¬

ville public. Songs of “You” are published by

thousands; “You,” “To You,” “Just You,”

“For You,” “With You,” “It Is You,” “Just

for You,” “Because of You,” “Thinking of

You,” “Looking at You,” “Nothing but You,”

ad infinitum. It seems that the majority of people as well as

publishers do not care much for the better class

of poetry and a higher musical standard. In fact

it happens that one recognizes in many of the

new songs familiar tunes which have pleased in


the past. The composers do not even take the

trouble to change or disguise it in any way. One

is inclined to believe that the composer and the

publisher were afraid to change it too much for

fear it might be spoiled in the process and so

lose its popularity. How the public enjoys hear¬

ing their familiar pet tunes!

Then, too, these songs are thrown in with

some good ones without discrimination and sent

to the singer for selection. The singer soon

grows tired of trying them over and throws them

all into the waste basket; or else she goes through

them in such a way that the basket would be pref¬

erable as a more noble death for the good ones.

It would take too long to describe the martyro-

logical journey of a new song from the publisher

to the basket; passing through the artistic taste

of a singer, the opinion of his family, the exami¬

nation of some friend who has a couple of un¬

published songs of his own in his pocket, the pity

of some great artist who listens to the song as

to a useless noise, the criticism of an accompanist

who thinks that he is the only one who can write

a decent song, and so on.

But all this criticism is the natural result when

an artist submits his work to someone else for

judgment. He puts himself in an unfavorable

artistic position. The one who is asked to give

judgment becomes, consequently, very important,

a superior critic and a very difficult one and still


more difficult if, besides giving his opinion about

the song, he is asked the great favor of singing it.

When a song comes from abroad the singer

does not feel responsible for the merit or absence

of merit in a song, and the situation therefore is

a different one. The composer from abroad does

not even know who is going to sing his song.

He does not need to present his song to an artist,

with letters which are systematically ignored by

the recipient. He does not care if a singer in this

country likes his songs or not. He is independent,

so the star comes down from the sky and becomes

a regular singer who needs some new songs for

his programme. The singer himself goes to the

music stores, looks over scores of songs, and is

very happy to find one which he thinks will suit

his style. He seeks with a feeling of benevolent

research and with more consideration and respect

for the composers.

This difference of feeling is due to the fact that

the song from abroad has already been accepted

by the public and the singer, as has already been

said, does not feel the responsibility of bringing

it out to the public. Thus, even if the song proves

to be a failure, his having selected it raises no

protest from all the other composers who have

not been favored by the artist.

Singers are very fond of having songs dedi¬

cated to them; but the curious thing about this is

that the favored one sings the song perhaps a


couple of times, as a favor to the composer, and

then that is all. Another Waterloo awaits the

poor composer who has been so rash as to dedi¬

cate a song. Once having written it for a certain

artist, he finds that the others do not want to

sing it; so the poor composer suffers in either

case.

XVII

GOOD OPPORTUNITIES AND BAD SINGING

I often wonder what kind of an idea some

vocal students have about making a dehut or

singing for a manager. It seems that they do

not realize what it means. It is hard to tell

whether they take it as a chance, an amusement,

or what! At any rate I do not think they take it

seriously. If they could only understand what

the first step of an artistic career means, the

importance of it, they would not take it so lightly

nor so foolishly.

I have often attended the hearings at the Metro¬

politan Opera House and at concert managers.

I confess that I have always been surprised at

the assurance with which so many pupils try out

for engagements, when they do not come up in

the least to requirements.

Is it the fault of the singer, of the teacher, or

of the student’s relatives who wish him to sing?

I do not know. I know that a capable student,

who has good training and can really be con¬

sidered for an engagement, is very rare indeed.

Every time I happen to be present at one of these

hearings I wonder why they come. If they do it

for fun, then it is poor fun indeed; much of it is

disgraceful. 54


The most astonishing thing is to see these

people looking so happy and proud of themselves,

after they have been told to come back in a couple

of years when they know how to sing better. They

go home saying “I sang for Signor Gatti-Cas-

azza.” All the relatives are delighted. “She

sang at the Metropolitan. Of course, they do

not engage her, because they have Farrar, Hem-

pel, and we have no big pull.”

When they are asked why they sing, knowing

that they are not ready to do so, they answer,

“To get a chance.” “A chance of what?” I say.

“Do you call it a chance to have Mr. Gatti-Cas-

azza, or a manager, tell you to come back in a

couple of years when, perhaps, you may sing

better ? ” I consider it a bad chance. Even if you

are half good, it is not a chance, because the first

impression is the one that remains. So this is

the students’ idea of what a hearing for a debut

is. They believe it to be a question of chance,

opportunity, and not ability. Moreover, the

chances of the few good singers are spoiled by

this procedure. So much bad singing makes the

manager tired and disgusted with listening to any

more. That is easy to understand when one

realizes that those ill-trained or untrained stu¬

dents are legion, and that they go from one place

to another, from hearing to hearing, from com¬

petition to competition. They are really a

Damnation Army. Not only are they blinded by


self-vanity or by paternal love, but they must also

be deaf to the sound of their own voices.

When we consider the great number of opera

schools ottering stage training, the host of teach¬

ers of acting, the overwhelming crowd of private

teachers, coaching in repertoire for grand opera

and for concert, and then think of their results in

these competitive hearings, one is bound to ask

whose fault it is, and what the reason is. Is it

because of poor systems, no good scholars, good

will but no perseverance or experience? Who

knows? I suppose we must wait like the poet

Heine who asked the stars why they twinkle, and

said that a fool is still awaiting the answer. So are we.

XVIII

GOOD SINGING AND BAD OPPORTUNITY

Very often a good singer misses success, be¬

cause of having been given an opportunity to

sing under unfavorable circumstances. He is

asked to sing a song which throws his shortcom¬

ings into strong relief, or to sing before an un¬

friendly, cold audience, or a disappointed one.

The good luck is to sing for a manager who needs

the singer for some particular work, no matter

how little, which fits the singer. A great many

times a singer sings for someone who needs him

not at all; and the result, of course, is always

negative. The manager is very indifferent—he is

listening because he is obliged to, perhaps for the

sake of some influential friend.

To sing to an indifferent listener is to sing

under a great disadvantage; and especially is

this so in the case of a good singer. So it is, for

instance, at these general hearings where the

singers are pushed out one after the other like

cattle, to sing a couple of songs. It is like turn¬

ing a talking machine. I rather call these hear¬ ings capital executions. The poor singer, espe¬

cially the beginner, feels uneasy and not in an

artistic mood. He fears the criticism, the terrible

57


verdict, that cold “Thank You” which is the

pollice versus of the managers. The poor singer

is nervous, he waits in the hope—not a very-

humane one—that all the others will be had. At

the same time, he fears that someone will be

better than himself.

Hearings for engagements have always been a

dream of hope and nightmare for singers—a great

bore for managers, who have to listen to hun¬

dreds of singers for whom they have no use—

and a great trouble to them when they have to

decide about one artist whom they really need.

Everybody would be so happy to do without

hearings; but, bad though they are, they are a

cruel necessity. They cannot be helped. It is

fated that one must sing and the other has to

listen.

XIX

GOOD LUCK

Every artist possesses, more or less, some good

qualities. Good luck for an artist consists in an

opportunity of appearing before the public under

those favorable circumstances which bring his

best qualities into strong relief, so that everyone

can appreciate them.

I wish every student Good Luck, but not too

easy luck lest the student lose his common sense

and believe that he is a double star. Often, sud¬ den easy success brings bitter deception later on. It takes a well-balanced mind to understand the

causes of a sudden, lucky success—sometimes it

may be the result of circumstances altogether,

outside of the ability of the singer. In that case,

he should take the chance of his success with

appreciation and not spoil it by foolish vanity or

inconsiderate actions; otherwise, the success may

end in failure.

I should prefer the modest beginning, such as

is made by people who have not sudden luck but

who have strong will. People who improve while

waiting for a better opportunity and who per¬

severe in trying again and again—succeed. Per¬ severance and improvement are two great factors

59


of success—far better than good luck. Good luck

may go back on one, but perseverance and im¬

provement always bring good results. But per¬

severance needs self-confidence—an estimation of

the value of your artistic talents which are some

day to be recognized by the public. Self-confi¬

dence in your own talents does not mean that

stupid pride of the lucky mediocrity, who comes

to the front, stands for a while amongst the real

artists and then disappears unnoticed, back to

mediocrity where he belongs.

Very seldom do we hear of a great artist who

came to the front at once. Most of them had to

fight their way to success. The reason why the

singer of little talent and sudden luck, does not

last, is because his sudden success develops his

vanity to an extent that interferes with his artistic

growth. Vanity means relaxation; he sleeps

happily on his easy success; he believes he has

reached the top and does not realize that the real

top is far, far away from him.

So, should good luck come to you, keep cool;

put your vanity in an ice chest. Do not let it

boil; for it is very dangerous. It makes bad

microbes instead of killing them.

XX

THE EVOLUTION OF THE PUPIL

Engaged—at last! The student is as happy as

a bird. He feels like the sailor who has come

safely through a heavy storm. He forgets all

the trouble he has had, all the anxiety, the lessons,

the school and the teacher. Of course, the teacher

first of all, because he is merely a guide who takes

people over treacherous chasms. Once they have

reached the other side safely, they bid their guide

a cheerful good-bye. If a teacher could have, in

reality, all that the pupil gives him in promises

during the period of study, that teacher would

be a millionaire. He Avould have palaces, quan¬

tities of precious gifts in diamonds, rubies and

pearls. Poor Tiffany would be ashamed of his

display.

During the years of study the pupil is puzzled

as to what he shall be. He does not see his way

clear; one day he is hopeful, another day the voice

is bad and everything looks black. He is afraid;

he thinks he will never succeed. He becomes a

coward; he cannot see clearly; he trembles for

the outcome. The teacher is his only salvation,

his only god, the god who must make him an

artist, bring him out, make him a success. In

61


such a state of mind, one can easily imagine the

kind of vows, promises, and so on, which the

pupil makes his teacher. I believe, too, that he is

in good faith at that very minute, when he says

“Professor, if ever I succeed, you shall not worry

about teaching any more. You shall be rich; you

deserve it. You have made me an artist. You

made it possible for me to succeed.” Even the

family of the pupil joins in the chorus of presents

to come. It is truly a shower, a cyclone of rich

gifts that floods the home of the teacher—the

lucky dog.

When the pupil puts his foot on the first step

of the ladder and he is quite a success, all the

presents of palaces, automobiles, and so on, are

greatly reduced, sometimes even to a little post

card on Christmas Day and that only if the pupil

is not too busy, with his new friends and admirers,

to remember the teacher.

The vocal teacher may call himself lucky if he

is remembered by his pupil and if the pupil will

admit that he has studied with him and does not

give the credit, as very often happens, of all his

success to some other teacher with whom he may

brush up some songs.

But the evolution is natural. The pupil, who

considered himself so little before, discovers upon

his first step on the stage that everyone finds him

splendid. “What a beautiful voice! What a

lucky teacher to have had the opportunity of


teaching you!” So the pupil wakes up. He

begins to think, “It is I who have the talent”

—I (already he thinks with the traditional, artis¬

tic I). Then not only is the pupil glad to have

made no foolish agreement during the stormy

days of despair, hut he also even feels somewhat

ashamed to confess that a little, of course a very

little, part of his success is due to someone other

than this wonderful “I.” As I have said, all

this is only human, a most natural evolution—

the evolution of the little chick that came out of

the shell and became a rooster. There are some

good-hearted pupils who like their teachers even

after becoming successful; but I must truly say

that they are the exceptions.

The evolution is too big a one; and sometimes

the mind of Mr. I is so small that it can hardly

contain his vanity; hence there is little room for

fair thoughts.

XXI

STAGE LIFE

Operatic students, after having accomplished

their artistic studies, have to go through the

experimental study of artistic diplomacy in stage

life. To navigate the stage channel without run¬

ning against rocks of jealousy, the shallow waters

of false friendship, undercurrents of gossip, to

be so careful as not to he rammed by some other

ship in the way, or sunk by the captain (manager),

one must be a very fine pilot indeed and must be

careful to keep a constant eye on the rudder.

First of all, the beginner has to make himself

very small in order to go through some of the

more dangerous places. He must be prepared

against all the winds of gossip—which are the

worst of all winds, and he must try not to be

taken by surprise. One must not lose his balance

in the sea of honeyed words, congratulations,

offerings of protection, friendly advices, and so

on.

The debutante must have a very happy disposi¬

tion, to be able to please everyone on the stage,

great and small. The best way to success is to

have a permanent, beautiful smile on one’s face.

If someone says something not very kind about

64


another artist, or something too kind about him¬

self, smile. If they say you are doing well, smile.

If they say you are doing badly, smile. If you

are a soprano and another soprano tells you how

glad she is of your success, smile, never mind,

smile and smile again. Listen but never talk.

Greet everyone cheerfully who looks happy.

Avoid them when they are in bad humor.

At the beginning, never talk about yourself.

You will have plenty of time to doW>—like your

companions—when you are a success. Try to

advance without making yourself too conspicu¬

ous. Somebody might not like it. Try, if pos¬

sible, to be friendly with everyone, it is not so

very hard. Tell everyone that he is great; and,

confidentially, say that he is the greatest of all.

The vanity in an artist is not a sin. It is a sen¬

timent, his second life, a necessity. When an

artist says that he hates to be praised, that he

dislikes adulation, do not believe it. He is either

posing or fishing.

But after all, what is success, if not the adula¬

tion of the whole public?

Apart from that unavoidable necessity of van¬

ity, artists are the best people on earth, simple

and good-hearted and impulsive, according to

their very changeable moods. If they were calm

and systematic, like normal people, they would not

be artists. Artists have an overflowing quantity

of sentiment and enthusiasm—so that they have


to communicate it—to expand, to get it out of

their systems. And beside all this, think how they

are spoiled by the public which adores them!

They are like spoiled children—everybody spoils

them, the public, friends, editors. They have

everybody at their feet. I think that they must

be a pretty well-balanced lot to be no more con¬

ceited than they are.

Think of the exciting life that is theirs daily!

Their responsibilities before the public, the care

of their health, the straining for a success, the

drain put upon them from the outside people

wanting to meet them, asking favors, pictures,

autographs, students seeking advice, newspaper

men demanding interviews. Then come invita¬

tions to parties, dinners, which cannot be refused,

rehearsals of new operas, plans with managers

for concert tours, the making of records, moving

pictures, dressmakers, servants, nurses, hus¬

bands, chauffeurs and cooks. Well, I should call

that ‘ ‘ something to do. ’ ’

Every day brings its little troubles and its

little joys. It is the continual excitement of the

emotions, the constant ups and downs, which,

naturally enough, affect their nervous systems.

Then, as to their variable moods, they may like,

dislike, hate, despise, find good and like again, all

in a single day. Sometimes it depends on a very

little thing; a trifle makes them feel happy or

miserable. No wonder, then, that the stage life


has not the peaceful serenity of a convent nor the

still softness of a beautiful summer’s day.

The stage life, however, has an irresistible at¬

traction, not only for the artists but for everyone.

The public likes it without even knowing what it

really is. The curiosity of the public is aroused

by the many strange stories which people tell

about happenings on the stage. Love affairs,

quarrels, funny people, odd habits of artists, good

times. All these things excite the imagination

of the public. Much must be discredited, however,

before we get to the facts of these stories.

Indeed, outside of the strange but picturesque

confusion of the stage during a performance,

there is nothing that makes it different from any

other place where everyone attends to his own

business. All the artists are in their dressing

rooms, waiting for the time to go out on the stage.

One hears from time to time some scale, arpeggio,

falsetto, some roaring basso tones, and that’s all.

The chorus, the ballet, are upstairs in their dress¬

ing rooms; all the assisting masters are at their

places, supervising the performance. One sees

the stage managers, the directors, giving orders

to the electricians. During the entr’act no one is

on the stage, except the stage hands setting up

and arranging the scenery. One may readily see

that there is not much going on in the nature of

“strange happenings,” outside of that which goes

on in any other place of business. But it is the


atmosphere, the ensemble of stage life that makes

people think it so different from all other busi¬

nesses; and then they call it a dangerous place,

from a moral standpoint.

As for the atmosphere, it is in fact quite differ¬

ent from other places of business or ordinary life.

As for morality, however, life on the stage is

just as bad or good as it is in society, in public

or in private life, in stores, in business offices, at

the seashore, on board a steamer, in the country,

in all the sporting parties, parks, streets, in

metropolis, town and village. In all other places,

things often happen which very seldom occur on

the stage. Morality is not in atmosphere but in

people. One can be moral anywhere, provided

one is so at heart, and wishes to be. If there is

an attraction in stage life, it is the uncertainty

of its ups and downs which is so exciting. Except

for this and the interesting personalities of the

artists, stage life is a regular one, sometimes even

very monotonous. For example, toward the end

of a long season, when there are no more excite¬

ments and when everything is going quietly, the

artists grow tired and look forward to the end

of the season.

The student who has been engaged and is con¬

scious of his artistic value must not be afraid of

entering the stage life, provided he can perform

his artistic duties satisfactorily. Those who get

lost are those who find themselves engaged, but


not artistically prepared. They need too many helpers, too many friends, in order to get along and to make np for lack of ability. If they think they can advance by other means than artistic merit, they are sadly mistaken, because helpers do not last forever. That is where they lose their way, coming out finally to find themselves in the gloom of the “background,’’ compelled to live eternally in the trenches with the chorus.

To repeat then, to succeed on the stage, the debutante must be rich in diplomacy, and richer yet in artistic ability. Then stage life will be heaven to her—even though some days will not seem so at the time.

XXII

GOING ABROAD

American vocal students say they go abroad in order to accomplish their studies, make a debut and secure a reputation. All this sounds reason¬ able enough; but how practicable an idea has it proved itself to be? Why is it that ninety per cent, if not more, of those students who go abroad in order to accomplish these things, come back with no better artistic equipment than they could have obtained in their own country and also with¬ out any practical results regarding their intro¬ duction into the musical world.

The differences in training, vocal teaching, agents, and opportunity, are not considerable.

, Nowadays, all these things are almost the same abroad as they are in America. There are good and bad teachers, honest and dishonest agents.

Only opportunities for a debut are more numer¬ ous in Europe, especially in the operatic field; but everything depends on the way in which one sets out to reach them. What then, you may well ask, causes such a large percentage of failures ?

There are several reasons: First, is the abso¬ lute miscalculation of time, money and means necessary in order to succeed in a foreign country.

70


Second, is the total lack of any practical plan for the selection of teachers, for coming into contact with the right people, for securing help and in¬ formation as to how and where to live and study. This is often altogether overlooked in the excite¬ ment of going away. Third, is the false hope of accomplishing better results under different en¬ tourage, with different people. And last but not least, is the predisposal of the student mind to thoughts other than that of serious hard work; the mirage fascinates them, the mirage of the good time they will have in Europe.

These preoccupations of the mind, coupled with ignorance of how things are managed in Europe, prevent the calm making of sensible plans and account for the failure of many students who go abroad.

Everybody, or at least the great majority of people who send students abroad, believes that in Europe everything goes easily. They think that it is much easier to study and acquire in that artistic atmosphere than it is in America. They feel sure that the teachers must be very clever, that the lessons must be very inexpensive. En¬ gagements can surely be secured without any trouble.

These are all miscalculations, false surmises, only too common. Unfortunately, thus it is that families of limited means send their boys, but more frequently their girls, to Europe thinking


that in a few months they will return to them ac¬ complished artists, ready to go on with their careers in America. They supply the student with money enough to tide her over a five or six months’ stay in Europe and believe that by that time everything ought to go as smoothly as a summer’s breeze. But it so happens that people who go abroad never can tell how much they will need, especially in the case of launching—setting out on a career. Nor can they tell how long it will take to get a good opportunity. The student can wait calmly when he lives at home with his family; but abroad it is entirely different.

Americans who have not traveled in Europe labor under the impression that living is very cheap, but they are mistaken; and besides, the student who has to work hard must live in a very comfortable way, to have the necessary physical force and spirit in order to do it. Poor living gives poor results in practicing and so much more when one is in a foreign country.

Then comes the handicap of going abroad alone, without any knowledge of the country and without a real good friend. Especially is this so with the case of the young girl student. She finds herself in a strange town, lost amidst the babel of strange tongues, very often with no one who has the authority or the opportunity to start her in a good way or who knows how things are managed in that country. So she has to depend upon


strangers whom she may meet accidentally in some boarding house, or elsewhere. They may tell her all kinds of things about teachers, or the theatrical business. She cannot tell whether they are honest or only fakes.

Meanwhile, time flies; at the end of the few months, she knows that she has to go back home.

The usual results of the short visit in Europe is that the would-be-singer comes home very happy but without any engagements. She tells her folks that Professor X said that she needed six months more of study; also the agent would have been able to find some opportunity for her if only she could have stayed a little longer in Europe. Some relatives are satisfied with such results. Sometimes they get together some more money and send the daughter once more to Eu¬ rope. Sometimes they do that for several seasons. More often, however, the family and relatives realize that the student has gotten nowhere and, in order to fix the blame somewhere, decry the whole European regime of teaching, engaging, and so on.

But the ones who are really the culpables are those who undertake to send the student to Eu¬ rope in this way. Even where there is good voice and musical talent, it is a mistake almost sure to end in failure.

Then, on the other hand, there are students whose families are people of means. Those stu-


dents, as a rule, do not make any miscalculation —they make no calculation at all. They like to go to Europe and they go; that is about all they do. Of course they want to study; but they seem to think that such things will develop of them¬ selves, in the “bye and bye,’’ while in the mean¬ time they peruse a rather intermittent course of study, between studio-going, resting, and having a good time.

Ah! that good time! It outshines all artistic and financial considerations in the mind of too many young students.

The ocean trip marks the beginning of the artistic career to be pursued abroad. How easily one recognizes those young students on board ship. They have so many books; they write so much! By the way, it is really strange, this writing mania that takes hold of all these Ameri¬ cans as soon as they are aboard a steamer. It looks as though they were going to write the history of the world! All this writing, however, stops as if by magic as soon as those busy writing ladies get acquainted. They commit their garrul¬ ousness no longer to paper but divert the stream into the ear of some willing-to-listen young man. They close their books and there is no more correspondence until the next trip.

The young student writes, too, but not so as¬ siduously as she is too busy doing everything at one time. If there is a piano she is at it most of


the time. She talks music with no matter whom —an old lady, the chief steward. If there is the least opportunity, she sings. Vocal students talk very loudly about artists, operas, teachers, and careers to be.

The future prima donna (who goes to Europe for the debut) maintains a better, more artistic poise. She rests quietly in her chair, saving her physical and vocal energies. She speaks only to some professor or to some distinguished person¬ age who may happen to be on board.

The beginner has the ambition of looking some¬ what Bohemian—some queer little bonnet, a dress of peculiar hue, and bizarre jewelry.

Once in Europe, however, things take their course. The student who planned to stay for one year, is still there after three years, awaiting some good engagement. She writes home about her wonderful progress, her coming debut at the principal theatre, her good fortune in meeting some great artist who is immensely interested in American students.

So it is that the students, happy abroad, make their families happy at home through their letters. They are not in a great hurry to come back. They pass their time changing teachers (they do that in Europe, too). They meet people, learn languages —or at least some special charming verbs of the language—and some pretty little words of dialect. They sing some duos with other students or


friends, buy some nice things and then write home for more money. If they are in Paris—well, then the letters home are more frequent.

This is the class of people with some money, some talent, but without any definite aim or idea. The saying is that they go abroad in a box and come back in a trunk.

The only way therefore, to send a student to Europe, is to have a very clear definite plan of study, experience and time. Send him with some¬ body or with letters, to an honest, recommended person who can help the student over there, to someone who will introduce him to really good people, who know and will thus save him from falling into the net of fake teachers and dishonest agents. Find these things out in advance, else he will grope blindly, like a man in a forest at night, and lose his way.

If the family is making sacrifices to send the daughters to Europe, one of the very important things to find out is whether she has the sincere ambition to become an artist, a real passion for study and a strong determination to succeed. Only too often the student merely imagines that she wants to do these things. She mistakes the poignant stirrings of her fine adolescence for the call to a life of art. She longs td feel the potency of her newly discovered self. She longs for worlds to conquer, to know the tang of adventure; and, because she is young, she does not know and


calls this something she wants Music—Music! Music it undoubtedly is, but of an altogether dif¬ ferent sort. It is mostly a desire for excitement, fun, a little something to do and the good time.

In the first case, it would be right to let the girl go to Europe—under proper conditions. In the second case, it would be far better to have her try her study in America and let her have the good time at home. The ocean always has a tempting siren at the bottom.

XXIII

THE AMATEUR MUSIC LOVER

It is difficult to understand why some people believe it unnecessary for an amateur to have a good regular vocal foundation. Why should an amateur sing badly? He has so many advantages over the professional in studying. He is in no special hurry to make his debut. He can sing the music he likes. Whenever he pleases he can sing music that suits his voice. He has the time and means to perfect his voice and musical knowl¬ edge with an artistic training. He . can hear the good artists more frequently at concerts and the opera. Often amateurs sing better than some professionals. The amateur should insist upon his teacher giving him a true foundation, instead of being happy to avoid it.

The teacher is often afraid of not pleasing the pupil, or else has not the authoritative forceful¬ ness to make the amateur study seriously. This lack in the teacher, combined with the unwilling¬ ness of the pupil, makes the average of the amateurs one meets sing without any trace of vocal training, without style, and with poor dic¬ tion. Such people should be called “Music Hat¬ ers” instead of “Music Lovers.”

78

XXIV

THE ACCOMPANIST FOR STUDENTS

A really good accompanist for students is as rare as a white fly. Having developed into a good one, he goes after more remunerative work than accompanying students. He tries to get con¬ cert work, gives vocal lessons and coaches.

Many times the accompanist interferes with the work of the teacher by suggesting to the student songs that he happens to know better, or songs in which he can display his pianistic ability. The majority of students are more pleased with their accompanist than with their teacher. Of course, with the accompanist, they have a very enjoyable time going through dozens of songs, from the latest cabaret hits to the songs of the most ad¬ vanced French, Russian and German schools. Between songs, they have nice little chats about teachers, friends and current frivolities; while the lesson goes on beautifully with no remarks and no discussions. The only rub is the song that the teacher insists on giving until it reaches at least some degree of perfection.

It is a mistake to think that anyone who plays the piano can be a good accompanist, even if he does play Schumann or Chopin. The accompanist

79


requires many other artistic qualities besides the ability to read music and play the piano. He requires an intuitional understanding of the singer, to follow, to support, to be effective with¬ out being conspicuous, to play according to the style of the artist he is accompanying, a sympa¬ thetic sense of rhythm and dynamics, to name a few of the more important qualifications.

It is not very encouraging to try to become a good accompanist for students only, because of the small remuneration one receives for the work. It is so little, sometimes, that it would be out of place to expect anything really good. So the accompanist who works for students at so much per hour does not try for perfection in skill. He takes his work as a. daily job and he is not to be blamed either; for to go over songs or exercises with some people is really a very hard job.

XXV

ARTISTIC BUSINESS

Yes, there is an artistic business. The talent is the Capital. The study represents the invest¬ ment. The money you make is the income of your study and talent. They say that every American has a good business mind. It seems as though that were true about almost everything. Not al¬ together so, however, in some of the most im¬ portant points in vocal study.

It would he considered very bad business to open a restaurant to the public without the dining¬ room and cook. Well, it is a very badly calculated business not to give the student a thoroughly complete course of study, to let him go out when not absolutely ready, or at least with a sixty per cent chance of a good success.

It is bad business to save money by giving him cheap instruction. It is had business to let him start with a false step. It is bad business to interfere with his career or to stop him when he is making good progress. Business in art is a very important point to be considered. One must not get a false impression or let his head be turned by a huge success at home. It is one thing to sing for friends gratuitously and another thing

81


to have the same people at your concert paying for their tickets.

To sing for a manager is not an artistic enter¬ tainment but purely a business matter; for the manager is first of all a business man. He con¬ siders how much he can get for your ability. If you have no ability, you are of no use to him. He cannot consider you in any other way. The more your artistic value, the higher your salary and chances. With this business proposition so clear, one cannot understand why people take the study of a professional student so carelessly and super¬ ficially. It is purely very bad business.

XXVI

ABOUT TELLING THE TRUTH TO STUDENTS

It seems strange that many teachers, friends, even managers and artists, are afraid to tell the truth to people who sing for them. A teacher should tell the truth to a pupil. Any other course means trouble for the pupil and himself in the present and future.

If a mezzo who wishes to he a soprano, or a concert singer who wishes to be an opera singer, were told by the teacher that it is impossible, they would not study with him. But nevertheless the teacher should tell the truth and let his less con¬ scientious colleague have the trouble of making the poor mezzo yell at the top of her voice at every lesson and of having to keep on promising that the upper tones will come. Let other teach¬ ers have the trouble of coaching for grand opera a pupil who is fitted only to be a concert singer. In the end, the pupil himself will be disgusted with the results. He will leave the teacher and send his friend to study with the one who told him the truth in the first place. In such cases one can readily see that truth is a good business, also that it saves much precious energy which is

83


wasted in trying to make people believe things that are not possible or true. Truthfulness makes teaching so much easier. There are some truths, however, which seem to dismay.

When a teacher tells a beginner that he must study three or four years before he will be ready the pupil becomes frightened-or so disappointed that he runs away from that teacher as quickly as possible. Well, if one kept track of that pupil, one would see that the same pupil who was horrified at the idea of studying for three or four years, after five years of wandering from one teacher to another in order to succeed quickly, is willing to start all over again from the very beginning in order to learn how to sing. That pupil has lost four or five years of study without any result, because he could not understand a simple truth. People are not willing to listen to the truth generally—and so much the worse for them. They learn later on how foolish they have been. That later on, unfortunately, very often means “too late.”

XXVII

THE EAR DRUM OF THE SINGER

I must confess to surprise in not having, as yet,

heard of an auricular vocal method. I can imag¬

ine the book written by some ear specialist,

illustrated with anatomical drawings—lines pic¬

turing the sound waves which pass into the ear

of a singer, their percussion on the ear drum,

their traveling up to the brain, down to the larynx,

up again to the mouth and out into the open air.

That I have not as yet seen such a method demon¬

strated does not mean that it does not exist—

there must be one somewhere.

But seriously speaking—it would be interest¬

ing after all, for the singer to hear his own voice.

Certain it is, he does not hear it in the same way

that other people do. Because of this inability to

hear oneself, this acoustic defect, so to speak, the

simple becomes the difficult.

Vocal art is not a positive science, so it can¬

not be taught scientifically, nor is it a natural

phenomenon which nature herself takes care of.

It is the combination of the two elements—the

natural, and the acquired. The great difficulty

in teaching as well as in learning, is due to the

85


very fact that the singer cannot hear his own voice. His judgment therefore, is not a direct one—it is the reflection of the effect of his voice on other people. On this reflection—on this vicarious experience, the singer has to depend almost entirely.

That is why a vocal student, who may be intelli¬ gent in many other ways, can be told things about his singing and the way to study to which he would not listen, were conditions normal and in his favor.

Students as well as singers, already launched in their careers, are very often advised to do things the absurdity of which any lay outsider could see. But the singer firmly believes that he has found the “open sesame” to the right con¬ ception—until all of a sudden he finds that he is altogether mistaken, changes his mind entirely and takes up with fresh enthusiasm the new idea —which this time is sure to be the genuine one— until the next change of mind.

If a singer could hear himself as others hear him, conditions in vocal art would undergo a con¬ siderable change. The positive proof that the singer does not hear himself is given by the phonograph. When the singer hears his voice reproduced for the first time, he finds qualities and defects which he never knew he possessed. A witty pessimist used to say that it is often a


blessing that the singer cannot hear himself. This conld be applied to certain celebrities who think that the only reason of other people’s exist¬ ence is to listen to them sing and to worship at their shrines.

XXVIII

STARS

Stars are very far away in the sky—one can¬

not reach them—so are the stars on the stage.

These stage stars are lifted to their lofty eleva¬

tion by the public. When a singer is once pro¬

nounced a star by the public, he can do any sort

of thing he pleases, in singing, acting or any

caprice. The star stands above the critic, just

as a deputy elected by the people, stands above

the law. This deputy could not be arrested even

if he were a thief, so unquestionable is his posi¬

tion. Therefore, with the stars as powerful as

deputies, that is to say “all powerful,” it is

almost useless to try to make people realize that

the stars are the cause of many of the shortcom¬

ings of the modern theatre.

First of all—the star system retards the de¬

velopment of the musical mentality of the public.

As long as the public will go to an operatic per¬

formance merely to hear a singer—there can be

no intellectual appreciation and enjoyment of

music—I mean, the true enjoyment of the operatic

work. This system also limits the enterprise of

operatic managements by the demands for sal¬

aries, altogether out of proportion to merit—by

88


the cornering of exclusive rights to sing certain

operas and other fantastic pretentions.

The partiality of the public in overlooking all

the faults of their stars, while being hyper-criti-

cally severe with other artists, is to be deplored.

It is anything but constructive; and the public,

by so doing, consciously or unconsciously puts the

other singers on such a low level that the result is

that a performance without a star is considered

altogether unimportant—practically worthless.

People who go to symphonic concerts really go

to listen to music. The more significant the music,

the more vital the interest. These same people

act quite differently, however, at the opera. They

do not go to listen to the music—they go to hear

a star, to applaud a personality. In fact, of all

the popular operas, those arias stand out, which

have the virtue of being sung by the star.

The proof that the public does not consider the

beauty of the music for the music itself, but only

the pleasure given by the singer, is demonstrated

by the fact that during any orchestral intermezzo

or symphony (unless it be the fashion to remain

silent) everyone in the audience discusses his

affairs and only desists when the curtain is raised.

Opera should be listened to for its own sake.

The artists must bring out the full beauty and

meaning in order that the opera may be properly

rendered. In other words, at the opera one should

exercise one’s faculties as fully as at a concert.


One should not hear it acoustically only, but listen

intellectually and acoustically at the same time.

These facts not only make it difficult for the

management to arrange good performances dur¬

ing the season without stars but also take away

the chances of the other good singers. They are

forever kept at understudying the roles of the

stars, with a disheartening certitude that they

will never be permitted to sing them. In this way

the developing of new talent is checked. This

strikes at the very root of art and stunts its

growth.

A great Italian, who has a real love for musical

art and who blames what he calls ‘ ‘ The damnable

system of stars” for narrowing the operatic musi¬

cal art to the hearing of a handful of fortunate

singers, came to America with the intention of

putting an end to this state of things. He tried to

interest the public in artistic performances of

musical works. He was very glad whenever he

could obtain a success independent of stars. But

finally he went away discouraged, saying “The

public is too spoiled with the star system to want

anything different. They need them. The artis¬

tic merits and beauties of an operatic work as a

whole do not appeal to them as a song does or as

a coloratura aria sung by a star. They can¬

not do without him or her, as the case may be.

They have to hear him year in and year out. No

matter if he has no voice left or does not sing any


longer with the same charm or artistic spirit, the

public elects the star to sing for three generations

at least, unless something happens to prevent it—

war, epidemic, revolution or death.”

The United States can discharge Presidents and

Senators but cannot dismiss operatic stars. They

are not considered as singers; they do not need

to be; they are a national institution. So the best

thing to do is to give three cheers for the Star-

Spangled Banner, in which, I am sure, all the

constellations of the operatic and concert sky will

join with artistic feeling and financial enthusiasm.

XXIX

THE PUBLIC THEATRE GOERS

Foreigners always admire the Olympian seren¬

ity of the American theatre-going public. They

sit through a performance smiling, patient—no

matter how good or bad the play or the artists

may be—no matter how many the prearranged

encores may be. The public never protests nor

does it show its disappointment. In fact one

sees that at all performances ten or fifteen good

friends of an artist, or some people who are given

the job of furnishing applause, can make the per¬

formance a success. They can demand as many

curtain calls and encores as they like, against six

hundred and sometimes, a thousand people who

keep silent but who are anything hut pleased with

the performance. Fifteen people imposing them¬

selves upon a thousand who cannot show their dis¬

approval, for fear of being prosecuted for dis¬

orderly conduct, is indeed a strange phenomenon

of the United States. If the public would only

keep silent and let the fifteen or so applauders go

ahead and make the noise alone, this in itself

would show the public’s dissatisfaction and serve

as a judgment. But the American public is good

hearted and when the artist comes out, it joins the 92


fifteen or so friends in their applause. Thus the

success is actually confirmed by the people who

do not like the performance or the artist at all.

You may say, “What is the use of worrying

when a singer is off pitch or sings badly? What

is the use to lose one’s temper over a silly play

which has been advertised as the greatest success

of the season? Let the singer have as many en¬

cores as he pleases, let his friends enjoy calling

him out. If we do not like it, we will not come

again. We go to the theatre to pass the evening

pleasantly—we do not wish to he bothered with

judging.”

That is all very well, but that indifference of

the public does not benefit Art in the United

States. It does not spur the artist to better

things, nor the manager to better work. It does

not save the public from being constantly duped

and deceived. In spite of apparent indifference,

the public feels very much disappointed when the

evening has been wasted at a bad performance.

Why then do they not show their dissatisfaction

in some polite but clear manner, to the artist or

manager? It would he a good lesson for the had

and a glorious reward for the good; and there

would be much better material on the artistic

market. The public continues to talk a great deal

about American art and its progress; hut in truth

it is not very much interested in it, especially in


musical performances and in its native artists or productions.

There are people and committees who try to promote, advance and improve American art by lectures, meetings, prizes, and so on; but the musi¬ cal art of a country cannot be made by commit¬ tees or lectures. It is made by the people of the country—the people who want it, who need it, who ask for it. In Europe every little town has an opera house. Everyone is interested in it. The openings are events like the opening of the Metropolitan in New York; and more so, because they are not events of fashion but of art. People are interested in the new singers. They like to judge them and to make them. They enjoy seeing young talent come to the front. They enjoy the great stars but they do not go to hear them per¬ ennially as is done in America. They want new emotions, new artistic personalities. That is why they have a national opera and national singers. Why is it that this great country has but one or two opera houses in all? Why is so little opportunity given to native talent? In every town there should be a theatre for operatic per¬ formances, in order to give the younger talent an opportunity of developing and of coming to the front. Then it would become a national art.

One might reply that, though there are not many opera, houses, there are many concert halls all over the United States. That is true, but who


sings in these halls? Always the same singers, heralded by their managers and press agent. Man¬ agers do not care for young artists or debutants. They do not want them at all. They do not con¬ sider them in any way, not because they do not like debutants who are good singers, but because they cannot find a place for them. And why? Because the American public does not want American debutants, even in a concert in a little country town.

After all the great talk as to American art, when the Metropolitan gives an opera written by an American composer, the public shows little interest, attending in small numbers, even the premiere performance.

In the great city of New York the chances are not any better for singers. All the theatres are overflowing with patrons every day. Even on the holy days the people rush in masses to listen to some music at the so-called Sunday concerts. A debutant may sing on Sunday, Monday or Thursday. It will not make any difference. No¬ body comes to listen to him. If he has the fan¬ tastic idea of giving a concert in New York as his debut, he must get busy for a couple of months in advance and give away as many tickets as pos¬ sible ; he must beg friends to come to listen to him. On the day of the concert, he may call himself fortunate if he sees in the audience two or three hundred people—friends who have kindly sacri-


ficed themselves in order to make the theatre look halfway filled. When the concert is over the debutant except for some criticism which makes him unhappy, finds himself no further advanced than before. It will take years and years of per¬ severance to become known. Unless some unusual opportunity presents itself, he will find all doors closed to him.

And the public does not care. It does not want the trouble of creating artists or new operas. It gets them ready-made from Europe, from the Metropolitan Opera House or some other great institution. An artist who is connected in any way with a famous musical institution is accepted all over the United States without question. A first-class artist often has a great deal of trouble to find an engagement even on the vaudeville stage.

It seems that the people do not want to commit themselves. They do not want the responsibility of art, they leave that task entirely to musical editors. One must say that the musical editors in the United States are generally good, intelli¬ gent and almost always impartial. But the public reads the newspapers the day after a premiere, or the debut of a singer, merely to have an idea of what it was, that is, if it were right or wrong in its silent judgment.

They call that Olympian indifference, polite¬ ness. That may be so, but it is to be hoped that


the day will soon dawn when the American public will show the same fiery enthusiasm in artistic performances as it does in sports. At a ball game, if any play foul, the fans quickly show their disapproval. Why not then in the theatre?

XXX

THE SCIENTIFIC METHOD AND THE EGG

That so much discussed “scientific method” which, through the analyzation and description of the anatomical actions of the vocal organs, is in¬ tended to produce a scientific singer, means in reality to produce an artificial singer.

In the scientific method, the natural instinct comes in almost as a secondary matter—the sci¬ ence taking nature’s place—all emotions to he performed under a scientific control.

With that scientific control as a fundamental role, the art of singing is reduced to a mere mechanical knowledge. Almost every day some amazing scientific discovery comes out for all the needs of the would-be singer—voices restored or developed by scientific nerve control. Some day we will certainly hear of a new method based on the control of the vocal glands.

It is a real tragedy to think of the ignorance of those poor vocal masters of the past teaching the so-called bel canto—producing some good singers during two or three centuries—certainly by some mistake or a strange combination, per¬ haps the strange combination of a normal com-

98


mon sense with the natural artistic intuition of the pupil. At that time it took at least five years to become a good singer; nowadays they do it in a few weeks of mental concentration.

It is true that the modern singer cannot execute scientifically the music that those old-fashioned singers did naturally with great ease.

The real trouble that exists between the two different schools lies in this fact—the old school used to rely too much on the natural aptitude and artistic talent of the pupil, and considered all anatomical and psychologic explanation a super¬ fluous complication. The modern school instead exaggerates the ignorance of the pupil and takes very little into consideration his natural aptitude.

In many instances those scientific rules are so obscure and complicated that in order to under¬ stand them the poor pupil ought to be a throat specialist, a biologist, a phrenologist and an ex¬ pert psychologist!

That poor pupil with a good musical under¬ standing, who thought that the beautiful art of singing was quite a different thing than a concen¬ tration the action of muscles, must have suf¬ fered a great set-back to his natural enthusiasm.

Of course there are pupils who need more or less explanation than others; but here comes the care with which the master, who must have all the scientific knowledge of vocal organs and understand the mental and psychological nature


of the pupil, must turn this scientific and his practical experience into practical and artistic advice in correcting the pupil’s faults—just as a doctor would cure his patient. What the patient needs is the result of the doctor’s knowledge and not the knowledge itself.

The scientific mechanical training makes the pupil terribly conscious of all the muscular ac¬ tions of the vocal and respiratory organs, and that constant technical concentration takes away from him all the freedom of mind. Sometimes a technical word may upset his mind completely; for instance, abdominal breathing is natural, not abnormal. Then when the pupil is asked to breathe diaphragmatically, he gets panicky and terribly conscious, as if it were something strange and unnatural. He tries to do it with all kinds of wrong contractions—raising the shoulders, swell¬ ing the chest, moving that poor diaphragm out and in, as if he had never taken a deep breath in all his life. The idea of taking the breath scientifically prevents him from doing it naturally.

The very same thing happens when he is told about the lowering of the tongue, relaxing the jaw, opening the mouth, according to scientific descriptions which upsets his way of thinking.

The duty of the teacher is to teach the pupil scientifically and artistically—without trying to make the pupil a doctor or a vocal machine, nor self-conscious.


Science has made wonderful progress and ac¬ complished wonderful things; hut there are things that science alone cannot do! We have the mechanical piano reproducing artistic playing, and the scientific phonograph.

Science can tell us exactly all the substances of which an egg is composed; but science cannot produce a humble little egg for an omelet!

Science has succeeded in having chickens hatched in an incubator. Yes—but in the incu¬ bator there must be a reed egg. No egg—no chicken!!!

Of course there are good eggs and bad eggs, fish eggs, even crocodile eggs. In that case the vocal instructor must be the scientific incubator that helps them to come out—singers.

If the pupil is a musical egg, the incubator can be of great help; but if he is not, there is no scientific knowledge on earth that can make him come out and sing his kirikiky. In positive sci¬ ence, science comes first; in Art, natural talent and musical aptitude come first.

XXXI

WHAT ESTABLISHES THE REPUTATION OF A VOCAL TEACHER

The reputation of a vocal teacher is one of the most discussed, glorified and dilapidated at the same time by all kinds of people. No one would dare to discuss methods in violin, piano, or any instrument; hut everyone believes himself entitled to criticise or to support the work of a vocal teacher.

Reputations are well described in a few verses of the classic Italian poet, Metastasio, when he says:

“Dell’uom la fama e simile dell’ombra ch’egli spande—

Ora del ver piu piccola, ora del ver piu grande.”

(A man’s fame is like the shadow that he pro¬ jects. Sometimes smaller, and sometimes larger than his real size.)

The reputation of a vocal teacher very often makes some amazingly big jumps from one size to another, especially since the advertisements

which were formerly used for merchandise or 102


patented medicines have become an absolute necessity for the advertising of artistic repu¬ tations. There are great and small displays of artistic reputations as there are glaring electric displays on top of the buildings of a modest little green light in a store. There are full-page or two-inch reputations, sometimes according to the artistic ability and some other times according to the ability of—the pocketbook.

If you ask, “What establishes the reputation of a vocal teacherV’ the answer is, “A successful pupil. ” Yes, but from a logical standpoint it should not be so; because, if one successful pupil can make a good reputation, two unsuccessful pupils ought to make a bad one. Everyone knows that the number of those who do not succeed in being acclaimed as stars is far greater than the ones who reach the goal of a world fame.

Besides, the success of a pupil too often depends on special circumstances. A very good pupil who has bad luck in finding the right opportunity may remain unknown for years; while another, prob¬ ably not as good, gets all the best opportunities at the very start.

But more of it—the indorsement of a success¬ ful pupil in these days is not of much value because of its fallacy. The public knows already the old story of pupils who give and take away reputations like children do toys, transfer¬ ring their great affection, gratitude, considera-


tion from one teacher to another, usually giving all the credit to the last one who arrives at the right moment to put in a frame a lovely picture made by a good artist. These indorsements are almost a humiliation for the teacher who ought to be able to stand on his own merit and not be¬ hind the indorsement of a pupil of whom he, the master, is supposed to be the judge.

There are also indorsements of great artists who, after many years of a glorious career as perfect examples of good singing, found a teacher who corrected their faults and improved their singing. This would demonstrate that their judg¬ ment in techincal or artistic matters was not altogether so infallible.

Eeputations are not made by statements or indorsements. The great masters whose names will go down to posterity had none of these in¬ dorsements. They had to their credit some great singers among the several hundred who studied under them. You may ask—if the indorsements of great artists, the success of a few pupils, the publicity of their activities, do not establish a real solid reputation—what does then?

It may seem a paradox, nonsense, but the ones who establish a solid reputation are the many good pupils who perhaps had not the chance to come to the front and become famous as the few who have succeeded. But it is these many hun¬ dred who made real improvements under the in-


struction of that teacher, the ones modestly suc¬ cessful, who are the examples, the convincing evidence of the good instruction received. They are the ones who spread the reputation of the teacher all over the country. It is just like the clientele of a good store the reputation of which is not made by the clever display made in the windows but by the good merchandise that is sold inside.

Balzac says “Beware of reputations!” which sounds like beware of pickpockets! But I think he was a little too pessimistic. Of course there are people who take advantage of their reputa¬ tion. People who arrived at the top of the ladder and then allowed the reputation to take care of all their business. They are not thieves, but they do not give to the public any longer the essence of their artistic talent but merely a part of their professional routine.

But there are also artists who give with enthu¬ siasm all their soul and talent for the benefit of the public and the sake of their art. These do not make the art merely a business matter. The reputation of a singer is made in quite a different way from that of a teacher. The singer is in direct contact with the public and his reputation can be made in one evening. A teacher has to work for years before establishing a good reputa¬ tion, which can be spoiled in one evening by a poor exhibition of his teaching by one of his


pupils. This is the case when the several hundred who have made good progress hold up his repu¬ tation.

One of the strongest points which hold firmly the reputation of a teacher is his sincerity in telling the truth to his pupils. There are people who believe that the best way to keep pupils and make them happy is by flattering, telling of future successes, and so on; but it is a great mistake. To tell the truth, insist upon correcting faults, and to give sensible advice, may disappoint many pupils who possibly would leave the teacher in dissatisfaction. But in the long run it will prove the best artistic policy as well as the best business one.

For when all those believers in flattering mi¬ rages of future success find out that they cannot either start or keep on in the professional career on account of faults which have been neglected and of false encouragements, they go back on the charming flatterer and indorse the one who told the unpleasant but necessary truth. This is what establishes a solid reputation all over the country.

XXXII

THE SCIENTIFIC SINGING OF GREAT ARTISTS

From the very first day that I came into this beautifftl world, I have lived among great artists of all nationalities. My father was one of the most prominent vocal teachers of his time, as well as a composer.

While studying composition, I was gradually in¬ itiated into the professional career of vocal teach¬ ing; first by accompanying, then coaching great artists, and finally training my own pupils. At that time it was necessary to go through such an artistic experience before being considered a vocal teacher. Nowadays, in many cases, it apparently suffices to read any one of those scientific books giving theoretical and graphic explanations of the action of the vocal organs. Thus do some tyros expect to become vocal mas¬ ters overnight.

In spite of the great revelations of the laryngo¬ scope, practically all of the vocal masters teach according to the voice and musical talent of the pupil, and not according to the observations with the laryngoscope.

107


Having been in contact during my career with many of the older stars and with those who have since become stars, I have had the opportunity of seeing them in all the different periods of their artistic careers. They are invariably enthusiastic students, in love with their art, devoting all their time to the study of how to beautify their voices, not mechanically but artistically. They follow the principles based on the actual sound of the tone and not on the theory of thinking how the tone is automatically made.

I have seen noted artists, too, at the highest point of their careers. I have coached them for years, but during that artistic study I never heard these artists mention great concentration of mind on the muscular action of vocal organs. When they were trying to realize some artistic effect, they went over a phrase again and again until they had found the quality of voice for the effect they had in mind and wanted to produce. It was an artistic research and all the adjustments of the vocal organs obeyed the artistic direction of the master mind—because it is not the body which is musical, but the mind.

The people who need anatomical or graphic ex¬ amples in order to see how a tone is made or

placed, cannot understand that it is the artistic

conception of a tone that decides the placement of


the voice. A badly conceived tone can never be

in the right place while a good one always is.

During the period of their glorious careers,

great artists are always proud of that keen ar¬

tistic conception of tonal beauty which guides

their research in striving for artistic effects.

When the end of that glorious career ap¬

proaches, when the voice gradually becomes re¬

bellious or is fading away, some strive to keep

alive their great reputation by telling the public

of their vast scientific knowledge. Their minds

are tormented by the idea that the public will say

that they were singing almost naturally, that is,

without any special merit aside from being born

that way. With that the great singer would come

down to the level of the average pupil. He dis¬

avows his natural talent, feeling that all the beau¬

tiful singing was due to scientific concentration. The vanity of being a scientific singer takes the

place of the preceding vanities of being a natural

super-singer.

There are artists who go to another extreme by

saying that they never needed to study, which is a

vanity just as bad if not worse than the other.

But in spite of all these different assertions the

real fact remains that one must have a good mu¬

sical ear, or a musical-artistic conception of the

tone; therein is the real basis of much that is

passed off as science!


All the scientific explanations or graphic demon¬

strations of action of the vocal organs will never

develop an artistic talent nor a musical ear, which

after all is the ‘ ‘ secret ’ ’ and the ‘ ‘ science ’ * of all

the past, present and future great singers.

XXXIII

LOVE OF ART—THE INSIDE OF AN ARTISTIC STUDY

Speaking of love of art, one notices that the majority of our great artists come from very humble positions and rise to celebrity. This is be¬ cause art is all they have. They have no other pleasures, no other comforts in their life, only the art that they adore, and to which they devote constantly all their thought. In that lies the se¬ cret of their great success. If one could live with them and go through all the troubles and joys, while struggling and working, one would know the inside of a real artistic study.

But the average easy-going student believes that vocal study is merely a charming pastime. When he realizes that real study is an entirely different matter, he is very much disappointed and discouraged. And his friends and family are disappointed. They cannot understand it. Why? The pupil has a good voice—then to sing should be just a very little trouble, or no trouble at all. They wonder why he (or more often she) is not already on the stage, and so on indefinitely. All this happens because no one of these persons

111


knows the inside of the real process of artistic preparation for an artistic career.

If ignorance of the inside of an artistic training brings many regrettable results, not less danger¬ ous and unconstructive is the ignorance of all the material requirements needed to succeed in an artistic career. It is that deplorable ignorance which causes so many failures among artists and especially debutantes. One would think that when a talented pupil is ready, the only thing he has to do is to get out and sing—sing for a manager and get an engagement; sing for the public and make a success; receive his reward; and then open an account at a bank. But unfortunately it is seldom so, except in the case of some lucky mortals.

The average good student has to go through many kinds of experiences in every direction—as an artist, as a social diplomat, as a business man. To succeed takes a mighty well-balanced mind,

besides the artistic value. What confronts the beginner is always the inside manipulation of the career, of which the newcomer has not the least idea, for he has had the vision from the outside only. Some are quick to learn. Many musical stars become financial experts—sometimes too ex¬ pert. Others are slow or too visionary, and never learn. They do not grasp the inside working of the professional machinery, and that is a great mistake—one that brings with it many others, and


the failure of the singer. All these troubles could be easily avoided if those who want to start an artistic career would take the trouble to investi¬ gate the inside and not be content to gaze only upon the outside. This precaution would save dis¬ appointments and sorrows to many.

XXXIV

SELECTING A VOICE TEACHER IN A

DISTANT CITY

Persons living far from the great artistic cen¬

ters often have great difficulty and embarrassment

in selecting a vocal teacher in a distant city. The

student or the student’s parents are blessed with

innumerable advisors, many of whom, although

they know nothing of the subject, do not hesitate

to discuss as authorities.

Let us take a typical example. The daughter

is the possessor of an acceptably good voice, an

encouraging musical disposition and a pleasant

blonde appearance. Mother and Daddy were very

much delighted when Zizi was singing “Poor But¬

terfly ’ ’ in her own way.

One nice evening (those things usually happen

after a good dinner) a friend of Mr. X said to

him, “You must get a vocal teacher for Zizi.”

Said Mme. X, “A very good idea. We will have

a vocal teacher.”

Mr. X added gaily, “Oh, that is a very easy

matter! ’ ’

But that very easy matter became one of the

most intricate of problems when Mr. and Mme. X

114


started to inquire about vocal teachers, to read the advertisements in the musical papers and to ask the advice of some experts in the matter.

One said, “You must have a real vocal master, not a fake. Don’t get a singer. Singers know how to sing, but not how to teach. ’ ’

Another said, “You must have a singer! He is the only one who knows everything by expe¬ rience.”

The chorus of advisers grew daily—no singer, no self-made teacher—they know nothing about voices and less about music.

“Don’t trust advertisements,” said some, “in the paper everyone is a ‘wonder.’ When you study with them, you find out that they are only good advertisers.”

Zizi should have a musician. She has a natu¬ rally good voice; all she needs is a musician. ‘ ‘ For God’s sake, don’t take a musician!” advanced others. ‘ ‘ What they call a musician is an accom¬ panist, who poses as a vocal master! They can’t tell the difference between a drum and a so¬ prano ! ”

Again, “Don’t take an American,” urged other friends. “They have no traditions. They are ‘business teachers.’ ”

And from another quarter came: “Beware, do not fall into the hands of some foreign bluff! They come here with a ‘fake’ reputation; and sometimes


the great master is only a barber who has changed his mind during the trip across the Atlantic!”

Mr. X did not expect any such chaos of opinions, and the poor man was very much upset; for he could not succeed in understanding why, after centuries of celebrated singers of all kinds who must have studied the art of singing with some¬ one, one should be so at sea to know who could be

a vocal teacher. Mr. X in desperation asked to have an explana¬

tion about all this chaos of opinion. He said that the study of singing looked to him as complicated as opening a Japanese box by a secret trick.

It does look, in fact, something like that, but the problem in itself is simple. It is the people who insist on trying to open the box in the wrong way that makes the simple trick a hard problem. The art of singing is not a terrible nor obscure prob¬ lem. It is very simple if understood and con¬

ceived the right way. But there are people who, for some reason, principally to appeal to a certain class of students, make it a complicated matter. The different opinions are the natural conse¬ quences of the constant variable conceptions and temperamental dispositions of the four principal elements which form the complex of the lyric art

—the singer, the public, the teacher and the critic. If you resume the matter, you will see that the

greatest disagreement comes just from the fourth


principal element which forms the basis of the lyric art. If they do not agree and do not have an absolute form of judgment, how can you expect a clear and established opinion!

XXXV

THE GRADUAL DEVELOPMENT OF A PUPIL

The Beginner—The Advanced Student— The Artist

I believe that among the different branches of musical study, vocal teaching is the most interest¬ ing one. We have no crude mechanical instru¬ ment standing like a neutral barrier between our¬ selves and the pupil. We communicate directly, from the very beginning, with the soul of the pupil, his mind and his body.

We deal with a great variety of artistic per¬ sonalities, not to say with an infinite variety of artistic moods which change according to the ups and downs of hope, fear or discouragement of the

student. It is an interesting study in character. I believe that a vocal teacher, besides the neces¬

sary knowledge, ought to possess an acute sense of psychological observation. The understanding of the personality of a pupil is an absolute necessity in teaching, especially for the development of the artistic personality which is a sixty per cent factor in success.

118


Throat specialists and anatomical pedagogues may not agree with this, but that does not make any difference, for the action of the vocal organs depends entirely upon mental conception.

One of the most interesting things in teaching is to watch the gradual evolution of the mind of the beginner to the advanced pupil. Nothing is more pleasant than to have before you a young beginner, full of ingenuity and enthusiasm, eager to learn, to understand, to grasp the idea of his teacher. It is the virgin ground wherein you plant the seed which will produce a sweet dainty flower or strong oak.

A wrong or inadequate foundation troubles the mind of the pupil, and it is very hard to remedy all those wrong conceptions after they are once settled in the mind of the student, or even a singer. It is a great mistake to believe that a really good master is not necessary for beginners. The bud so often fades and withers before ever having the chance to bloom.

The advanced pupil is not less interesting. He has reached the artistic part of his study. For the teacher the advanced pupil is a psychological case which needs constant watching. The pupil is then midway on the bridge which has to bring him to the artistic side. He feels already that restless spirit of the evolution. To keep him quiet, to prevent him from going out and taking the wrong


path is a matter of great importance for the teacher.

Already the advanced pupil sings for his friends, sometimes for a little audience. That is the time when different moods start to appear on the horizon of his study. Some friends find his singing very good, others tell him that he has many faults to overcome. His mind has lost that peaceful enthusiasm and the faith of the young be¬ ginner. In this case the task of the teacher be¬ comes more difficult until he takes his pupil safely across the fatal bridge of sighs.

After that fatal bridge is once happily crossed, things clear up. Teacher and pupil start to work together, side by side, for the final result. They are at the door of the career and success. Hope, fear, joy and sorrow confused, come and go. Hopeful news alternates with disappointing re¬ fusals. These indeed are moments of great anx¬ iety, but full of interest and great satisfaction when the pupil finally succeeds.

PART II THE NATURAL LAWS OF THE MECHANISM

OF THE HUMAN VOICE

XXXVI

THE MECHANISM OF THE HUMAN VOICE

The mechanism of the human voice as given by

Nature.

1. The Mind conceives the tone.

2. The Vocal Organs adjust themselves to per¬

form the tone conceived by the mind.

3. The Ear detects if the tone emitted by the

Vocal Organs corresponds to the tone conceived

by the mind.

This is the natural process of tone production,

which is the same as in speaking; with the differ¬

ence that the quantity and intensity of breath,

steadiness, flexibility and resistance of the vocal

organs require more training and physical con¬

trol. Because speaking is normal and singing is

abnormal; that is, whereas a person can speak all

the day long, he could not sing all day without

endangering the whole vocal apparatus.

The vocal instrument, as given by nature, when

combined with an artistic soul, a musical ear, a

correct mental conception of quality of tune and

pitch, is a most wonderful and beautiful instru¬

ment. With these in fine condition it does not

123


take much pains to develop perfection in singing. There are people who try to misrepresent that

beautiful work of Nature by substituting some of their own personal views regarding the way to produce the voice, instead of following the simple way indicated by Nature in all its phonetic phe¬ nomena. They try to give the impression that the voice is a mechanical instrument which may be used like any common machine.

While it is not on the anatomical conception of the action of the vocal organs that the emission of a beautiful tone depends, it is perhaps wise to give a graphic and technical demonstration of the activities of the vocal organs, for those persons who can better understand a problem by a prac¬ tical vision of a graphic demonstration.

Many great doctors and eminent scientists are of the opinion that the less one knows about the anatomy of his body the better off one is. Very often one can get into serious trouble by a wrong judgment. The fact stands that when a doctor

is sick he calls for another doctor to cure his malady.

This gives a very clear illustration of the differ¬ ence between knowledge and the application of knowledge.

In the case of curing vocal students’ faults, it is the teacher who must have the knowledge and

be able to apply it for the improvement of the


pupil. But it must be understood also that the anatomical knowledge of the teacher is not suffi¬ cient to make him a vocal instructor—because the artistic knowledge and practical experience con¬ stitutes the eighty per cent of his knowledge and ability in teaching.

The throat specialist who looks into your larynx and knows the mechanism of the vocal organs con¬ siders himself the best of the vocal masters. By the same reasoning, a piano-tuner who looks into the piano and knows all about its mechanism, ought to be considered the best of piano teachers. But there are persons who have a mechanical con¬ ception of the art of singing instead of an artistic one and need anatomical instruction.

XXXVII

VOCAL ORGANS AND THEIR ACTIVITIES

The Larynx, Pharynx, Glottis, Epiglottis, Vocal Cords, Oral Cavities, Lungs, Diaphragm, and all the abdominal, laryngeal, pharyngeal and throat, sets of muscles, are the organs of tone production.

Frontal Sinuses.

.esondTice. Oarers.

uvuia..

Pharynx. Tououe. e^grotTis.

Larynx, vocm Cotas.

Trachea.

Lunos. £

urge 'BTOhChui Toftes.

Tu«>es.

DlifKTa^Yrv.

XXXVIII

THE LARYNX

Is the box where the sound is formed. In the center of the Larynx are situated the

vocal cords.

A connected view of the Hyoid-Bone, Thyroid Body, Larynx, Windpipe, with its ramifications, and Lungs.

The vocal cords are firmly attached to the laryngeal wall which leaves an interval for the

127


passage of the air. That space is called the Glottis. Over the Glottis there is the Epiglottis

which covers and closes the glottis when food and drink go into the stomach.

The air contained in the lungs, passing through the Larynx, creates a sound in the vocal cords. It is that sound which becomes voice when it reaches the resonating chambers; that is, the nasal cavi¬ ties (or ducts) which are situated in the nose and consist of the channels whose openings are called nostrils. There are anterior and posterior nos¬ trils. The posterior nostrils communicate with the Pharynx and other cavities situated between the bones of the head.

XXXIX

SOUND AND VOICE

The air contained in the lungs, passing through the Larynx, induces a sounding in the vocal cords, bringing the vocal cords into a vibratory and sounding motion, by coming into a partial or com¬ plete contact according to whether it is a high or low tone. That sound then becomes voice when it reaches the nasal cavities.

XL

BREATH

Breath is absolutely necessary to produce vocal sound. Nature has provided us with a voluntary and involuntary inspiration and expiration, per¬

formed by the motion of the lungs, ribs and dia¬ phragm. In singing, the way of inhaling, holding

and exhaling the breath is a matter of great im¬ portance in the emission, modulation and dura¬ tion of a vocal tone.

129


There are three main kinds of respiratory

movements: The abdominal or diaphragmatical breathing, Shoulder (collar-bone) breathing, Side or rib-breathing. The voluntary respiration is divided in three

parts: Inspiration, Holding the breath, and Expiration. This threefold respiration is what one calls ar¬

tistic respiration. Shoulder breathing is found mostly in women.

Men have a deeper abdominal cavity. The abdominal (diaphragmatic) breathing is

one recognized to be the best in singing—for several good reasons: Firstly, because one can inhale a greater quantity of breath by its expan¬ sion; secondly, it also acts as a breath reservoir, to be used at will; thirdly, by gently helping the expiration in controlling the emission of the voice,

in sustained phrases, and in other peculiar situa¬ tions.

Through holding the breath diaphragmatically, comes the freedom of the upper chest, neck and throat, consequently the freedom of the voice.

XLI

THE DIAPHRAGM

The diaphragm is a flat and sinewy muscle at¬ tached to the interior surface of the lower ribs and also to the vertebral column. It forms a wall between the thoracic and the abdominal cavity. The part of the muscle toward the chest is arched. In the act of inspiration it contracts, flattens it¬

self, and by this means increases the chest capac¬

ity. Through relaxation, by the re-arching of the diaphragm, the lower part of the chest-cavity is made smaller and in this way the air from the lungs is expelled.

In Inspiration 131

In Expiration


As one can see, the action of inhaling—holding

—exhaling is a very simple one. It should not he made a mystery or exaggerated in its execution, as many instructors do in teaching diaphragmatic breathing. Mistakes in practicing and teaching the abdominal breathing are the result.

Practicing abdominal breathing, excluding all the others (side and chest) because they are al¬ ways present in taking a full breath; filling the upper chest to its capacity; insisting on breathing with the diaphragm (muscularly)—resulting in introducing the least quantity of air into the lungs; all these things bring a wrong conception of diaphragmatic, abdominal breathing.

One can take muscular exercises of the dia¬ phragm separately from singing. It will increase the capacity of the lungs and improve their elas¬ ticity. The exercises should not be performed as mere muscle movement but always accompanied by breathing. The mere muscular contraction and relaxation of the diaphragm or other muscles is a forced action, which brings opposite results.

XLII

RHYTHMICAL RESPIRATORY GYM¬

NASTICS

In order to obtain an even rhythmical motion of

inhalation and expiration, it is necessary to give

it with a musical notation. Three exercises for a

gradual expansion of the diaphragm and improve¬

ment of the lung capacity follow.

All these exercises have to be practiced with

breath only; that is, breathing through the nose

and exhaling through the lips—semi-closed. The

notes indicate the rhythmical motion only and are

not meant for singing:

No. 1. Breathing with a gentle motion almost

as in sleep:

Andante moderato

Ascendent line _^ Inhaling Descendent line " ^ Exhaling

No. 2. With the increase in compass of the

musical intervals increase the expansion of the

diaphragm, and the lower ribs as indicated in

these following exercises:

Adagio

" 1 - '

133


No. 3. Long breath—full expansion:

Largo -y — = (V -P—-

-1—=~' 1 " ”

-W——^ -i —Xo - ■ i

XLIII

EXEECISES FOE BEEATHING AND HOLD¬

ING THE BEEATH

1. During the period of the eight ascending

notes the breath must be inhaled rhythmically un¬

til the diaphragm is completely expanded and the

lungs forced almost (not completely) to their

capacity.

2. Hold the breath comfortably, without a sen¬

sation of stiffness or uneasiness, keeping the

shoulders down easily, for a duration of time

which can be increased gradually (in a few days)

from 5 to 20 seconds—or more, if it can be done

with ease.

3. Then expire slowly, rhythmically, with semi-

closed lips—during the period of eight descending

notes until all breath is exhaled.

xliv

EXPANSION AND HOLDING

5 to 20 seconds

=f=r=n m m-|»“ f" 0--m—\-1—f—H 0 r r r j j j j=j 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 &_.8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

These exercises are arranged for the mechanical action of breathing only.

In singing, the breath is taken according to the

different phrases, which may require slow, me¬

dium, short, or quick motions, with more or less

quantity and more or less intensity.

The art of breathing comes along with the art

of singing. A really good singer never makes the

public aware of his breathing, or, what is worse,

his need of breathing. The beautiful art of sing¬

ing is not an exhibition of breath control; the less

the public sees of it, the better it is. When an

artist exhibits or exposes the work and effort of

his technic, fifty per cent, of his artistic value is

lost. 135

XLV

ABOUT MENTAL CONTROL OF THE

VOCAL ORGANS

There is one point, a very important one, about

the mental control of the vocal organs that needs

an explanation. There are vocal organs which

can be trained and controlled separately from the

action of singing. But when the action of singing

takes place it is the mental conception of the tone,

in quality, range and other properties, which de¬

termines the adjustment, or control of the vocal

organs. The mental conception of the action of

the vocal organs, advocated by some vocal in¬

structors, would reverse the natural law of the

emission of the human voice.

In fact, what kind of a pre-adjustment of vocal

organs could be obtained without the pre-concep¬

tion of a tone that they have to emit?

On the mental conception of the tone depends

the direction, shape, and consequently the quality

of the voice. It is erroneous to blame the voice,

saying, “My voice is nasal, guttural or empty”;

for it is not the voice but the mental conception,

the musical ear, which is wrong. When taught

how to understand and to detect a nasal or gut- 136


tural tone, from a good one, the trained ear and

mental conception will produce the right tone.

But that improvement of tone is not due to a

better conception of the muscular action of the

vocal organs, but to a better conception of the

tone itself.

XLVI

ABOUT PASSAGES, REGISTERS

In string instruments the change depends on

the size, thickness and relative vibration of the

strings; in the piano the size, length and vibration

of the metallic string; in the voice, by the wide or

narrow coming into vibrating contact of the vocal

cords which are reflecting their lower or higher

tones in the different resonance chambers.

In the musical instruments the passages are:

Low (basso), Medium (middle), and High

(Acuto), without mentioning the point of sonority

which exists also in the musical instrument, caus¬

ing a change in color and quality as it does in the

human instrument.

In the voice, the passages are traditionally

called according to the supposed place or reso¬

nance ; that is, chest and head tones. Women have


three registers; the medium is located between

the chest and the head passages or register, as

one prefers to call them.

Those transitory resonances exist in the hu¬

man instrument by a natural law as they do in all

musical instruments; they do not need to be made,

placed, by any scientific method. The only thing

that is needed is to blend them from one passage

of resonance to another, avoiding a disagreeable

change, or the sudden change in color as well as

in size of the tone. But blending does not mean

making the voice go through those passages by

some muscular conception or mechanical work.

Teaching passages is very dangerous to the

mental conception of the pupil; first of all because

not every voice possesses the same tone, as indi¬

cated in many books. Another danger comes from

the great mental trouble and pre-occupation of the

pupil who tries to change his mental conception

of the position, shape and focus of the voice at

every change of passage from one register to

another.

Imagine the mentality of a pupil going up and

down a scale which includes the three registers!

All that mental trouble could be very easily saved

by simply training the ear to blend the different

sounds from one passage to another—instead of

giving a wrong conception of the natural law that

determines the passage of the voice.

XLYII

THE ARTISTIC DICTION

During the period of florid singing, vocalization

was of supreme necessity, because almost all

sentiments in the lyric drama were expressed in

vocalized melody. Words in both solos and en¬

sembles were repeated ad infinitum. The artist

took all sorts of liberties, postponing or changing

words in their cadenzas whenever they did not

suit their particular emission of tone. Nowadays,

with the evolution of the lyric drama, the diction

has become an imperative necessity, one of the

indispensable equipments of a singer who wants

to be ranged among the better class of artists.

Singers who can only give an exhibition of a well-

trained voice will not be as highly regarded as an

artist with less vocal purity of tone but with an

artistic diction which communicates to the audi¬

ence all the emotions of an intense, impassioned

interpretation and all the delicate finesse and the

artistic details of a master work.

These very details are the proof of a high, ar¬

tistic intelligence and training.

Technically speaking, the study of correct enun¬

ciation has a great advantage over that of tone 139


production. This is because the rules of good

diction, articulation and enunciation are the same

for everybody; while those of tone production

have to be adapted to the individual and vocal

capability of the pupil. The study of a correct

and artistic diction is divided into three parts:

1. Placement of vowels and articulation of con¬

sonants.

2. Enunciation and connection of words.

3. Artistic diction—interpretation.

In correct diction, Voice and Diction must blend

in one artistic whole. The free emission of the

voice must never be interfered with or spoiled by

the enunciation of words; and the clear enuncia¬

tion of words must never be spoiled by the emis¬

sion of the voice—they must blend in one unique

emission.

The voice should never change in quality or in¬

tensity by the changing of the vowels. Passing

from the lower to the upper range there is an un¬

avoidable change in the color of the vowels and

flexibility of consonants; but the ability of the

singer must correct these different shadings of

color in such a way as to make the changes as

little noticeable as possible.

If a singer wants to find out if his diction and

voice blend nicely together, he may perform the

following exercise:

Vocalize a phrase—a melody—or a recitative,


with the inflection of the voice required by the

phrase or song. Then repeat the same musical

phrase with words and detect by the ear if the

voice keeps the same color and inflection that it

had in vocalizing. Then reverse the exercise,

speaking the words first, with a musical speaking

tone; repeat the phrase again and see if the dic¬

tion is just as it was before.

A musical speaking tone means a speaking voice

well placed in the mask* having a carrying power,

as when making a speech or declamatory emphasis

the intensity or sweetness of which depends on

the kind of musical phrase one wants to practice

on. To have the voice on that musical speaking

tone basis makes the singing very easy, almost

like speaking itself. The voice thereby retains all

its quality and expression. It is really surprising

to hear how few people can speak correctly and

with a clear voice. Nasal, guttural tones are very

frequent, and flat enunciation of words, wrong or

weak motions of lips and tongue, exaggerated

motion of the jaw moving up and down on the

articulation of every syllable, which is one of the

worst faults in speaking, and still worse in sing¬

ing. When people try to sing with such enuncia¬

tion all kinds of. vocal troubles commence.

•"In the mask” is a. vocal term derived from the French "dans Ie masque” meaning the ■placing of the sound so that it seems to he located immediately behind the mask of the face.


The voice which was produced with satisfactory

correctness and a good quality, changes color at

every change of vowels, becoming nasal, guttural,

foggy, especially on the vowels e and i (ay, ee).

Among the ills, the tongue gets twisted, tight; the

throat gets dry; the neck becomes stiff; the soft

palate choked; the tongue rises, interfering with

the free emission of the voice. Many other trou¬

bles could be added to those already mentioned,

phlegm and irritation of the larynx and tonsils.

In my book, The Italian Diction, are many exer¬

cises for the enunciation of vowels and conso¬

nants. Here are given only a few exercises for

that purpose just to furnish an idea which may

help in improving the enunciation of vowels and

consonants.

First of all, one should know where the vowels

should be located. In giving the example, the

Italian vowels which are very distinct and pure

are used.

The Italian vowels are five:

i. e.—A—Like a in Fa-ther) —E—(Like ai—in pain)

— I—(Like i—in machine)

—0—(Like o—in old)

—H—(Like oo—in tool)

Short IT—(Like u in fwll)

XLVIII

CORRECT AND INCORRECT PLACEMENT

OF VOWELS

Mouth and oral passages opened, (not too

widely) tongue flat at the bottom of the oral cav¬

ity. Avoid making the cavity too open or drawing

the tongue too far back. Avoid stiffness in the

tongue.

Note.—Dotted line in illustration—incorrect position of tongue and epiglottis in false production of the vowels.

143


Mouth open as when smiling naturally; tongue arched. There are two sounds of E—closed and open. Try not to keep it too tight “in the mask.” Avoid muscle tightness.


Month a little more closed than in No. 5, by raising the chin; tongue more arched than in E, avoid making it too close, too tight, too much on the teeth, or too far back on the palate. In the lower tone, lips a little pushed out.


One can form a broad 0 on tbe mash (nasal cavity) without the cooperation of the lips, the lips forming nearly a circular opening. There are

two sounds of 0—close and open: Roman (close), Donna (open).


Lips closer than in 0 but not too close, not too dark (except in the French u) avoid giving a fal¬ setto resonance.

XLIX

EXERCISES ON VOWELS

Connect the vowels a-o-e, which are the fun¬ damental sounds on which the system of vowels rests. Practice accordingly the given shape.

Slowly and evenly without a change in the quality or force, passing from A to 0. Gradual and even motion of the lips and mouth.

Moderato

• if i* '• - f/Pa - -

-Ci-Ci U.- -

The exercise can be reversed, passing from 0 to A.

From 0 to E and reversed:

CN

Jr/* rMv , 'iy r. -U fj & fi £.

Even motion of lips passing from the oval shape to the motion of drawing back the corners of the mouth.

Passing from E to I:

Gentle raising of the jaw on I and even lowering of the jaw and the arch of the tongue going back to E.

148


Tiku— -A —d 71

From 0 to I—U Gently closing lips on U:

Connecting the 5 vowels:

Exercise for blending the color of vowels, pass¬ ing from the lower to the higher register. Passing to the higher register, vowels always get darker or lighter.

The ability remains in blending the quality by adjusting the shape of the palate going up, and the slightly shaping forward of the lips coming down, which motion will “balance” the two colors.

a._ao a.ap e _eu e-eu 0.1_-.0 0--..0

v (close) (close)

a-ap e.eu o..o

(close]

L

ARTICULATION OF CONSONANTS

The articulation of consonants in Italian is very distinct and brings the voice in front, owing to the fact that the action of tongue and lips is not dis¬ turbed by any unnecessary work of the jaw. This is because in the Italian language the vowels are naturally placed “in the mask.” That is one of the reasons that the Italian is a more simple lan¬ guage and its employment in studying singing preferred.

LI

EXERCISES FOR THE INDEPENDENT ARTICULATION OF LIPS AND

TONGUE

First enunciate the vowel correctly, then articu¬ late the consonant, keeping the jaw still and the shape of the vowel in the Lingual Palate—L. R.—• and the Lingual Dental—N. D. S.

The following exercise has to be practiced, first 150


with speaking musical tone, then with voice, from F to C gradually;

A-la, O-la,—tip of the tongue touching the hard palate.

E-le,—tip of the tongue touching the gum of the upper teeth.

I-li,—tip of the tongue touching the upper teeth.

The same for A-na, E-ne, O-no, I-ni.

LII

EXERCISES TO FACILITATE THE ROLL¬ ING OF THE R

$

A A A

- pra 0 - pro E - pre I - pri - gra O - gro E - gre I - gri - ra o . ro E - re I - ri

The order of the consonants can be changed at will, making different articulation, as—

O-lo, la ra li le-lo no-le na li, etc. La-le-li-lo-Lo-le-li-la, etc.

LIII

THE FREE ACTION OF THE LIPS IN THE LABIAL CONSONANT M

Fix the shape of the vowel and keep the jaw as quiet as possible to prevent its unnecessary low¬ ering.

A_A_A_A

-Jr (f " —=—

frh ^ « u S £ -& i

A - ma O - mo E - me I - mi

152


Great attention must be given to the motion of the jaw—in emitting the consonant M. One must make sure that the lips are not separated by the lowering of the jaw; but the jaw must have a slight motion from the articulation of the lips. This is very important, because the over-moving or wrong holding of the jaw is one thing that causes a great deal of trouble and sometimes a most serious one in diction and tone production as well.

The jaw is one of the most rebellious organs to subdue in its action and to bring to a natural re¬ laxation while singing. A stiff jaw causes all sorts of trouble. Incorrect use of the lower jaw is the consequence of the habit of setting other unnecessary muscles into action in the use of the larynx and tongue, interfering with the freedom of the neck and shoulders. If pulled down too much it brings the voice down in the lower part of the jaw, causing the breath to escape and mak¬ ing the voice veiled and empty, out of shape and focus. Those enumerated are only a few of the many troubles derived from a rebellious, stiff jaw or a jaw in continuous uncontrolled motion up and down, as if one were eating or chewing gum, instead of singing.

Three vocal exercises, used by the old masters, to help singers, who have had difficulty in hold¬ ing the placement of the voice, in the breath


passing from one register to another, in expand¬ ing the voice on the palate, in producing the mezzo-voce in the place of the full tone, as if they were singing on the surface of the breath:

(•&) Breath

-6-B=——-^- --—T-=7-=-—--- ■ ~ - i

1 1 . t;< 1 - rj 4$.

'■JL—,—ra——L-J'.J_J- H- 1 —=—H -1 i — it J «LaL-g--I

(&) The breath after G is optional,

Moderato

mo_o

Moderato

LIV

EXPLANATION OF THE THREE EXER¬

CISES

Take a good breath, not too much, without fill¬

ing all the upper chest.

Open the mouth as for the enunciation of the

vowel A (not too open)^ Raise palate well with¬

out artificial strain; and start to emit the tone

without stiffness; then attack the tone directly on

the mask.

Come down slowly, keeping the same position

of the mouth, having the impression of holding

the tone in the same place, tak^ a breath after the

fourth tone, then come down to the end. Then

sing the scale up and down, blending the passages

without changing the position of the mouth. Com¬

ing down from a high tone, sometimes a slight

change in the shape of the lips is necessary to

blend the quality.

This exercise is especially good for developing,

placing, and attack of the higher tones for so¬

pranos. Take a deep breath, attack the tone and gradu¬

ally expand it on the palate and cheeks. The ex¬

pansion should never be felt in the throat. Never 155


expand the tone, by pressing down or raising the

shoulders. A gentle raising of the body will help

the gradual expansion. Placing the weight of the

body on the ball of the forward foot will give an

elasticity to the body and to the phrase.

Execute the first arpeggio note with a full tone.

Take a deep breath and attack pp (pianissimo)

mezzo-voce—the notes E G B C B, like singing on

the surface of the breath, but with the same posi¬

tion of the full voice put a trifle back, then coming

in front again with a full voice from the A-flat

to the end.

Many exercises for different principles could

be given, but this book is not a vocal method but

only a kind of a practical guide, a study of human

nature, contrived with sane explanation regarding

the natural phenomena in singing, presented to

enlist the attention of those who have a con¬

fused or wrong conception of long-established

principles sometimes misrepresented or misunder¬

stood in instruction, and which teachers of the

older Italian School of Singing considered of

paramount importance.

Date Due

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